


Not all souls can be saved...

by TheUsagi1995



Series: Stories for Season/Series 12 of SPN [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam, Broken Bones, Caring Dean, Chains, Comforting Dean, Drama, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Fire, Healing, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Ice, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lucifer is very powerful in this story, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Abuse (Implied), Past Torture, Post episode: s12e22 Who we are, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sacrifice, Season/Series 12, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Sexual Abuse, Spells & Enchantments, This is not a Samifer story, Top Dean, Top Lucifer (Supernatural), Torture, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11970972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUsagi1995/pseuds/TheUsagi1995
Summary: Set right after 12x22 "Who we are"READ THE TAGS PEOPLE!!!! READ THE TAGS!!!!!When the battle is over, Dean and Mary sit in the bunker, waiting for Sam to return from his quest to slay the remaining Brits once and for all. But when Lucifer penetrates the bunker, all Hell breaks lose. The falen Angel is there to get his revenge from those who inprisoned him. Because, like he had told them, ''this wasn't over.''Now Sam has to chose. He had once sworn that he was ready to die, ready to watch people he loves die. But he wasn't ready to be the Devil's bitch.Time will tell if he has changed his mind...





	1. Lost Souls don't need saving (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am taking a small break from studying and I wrote a small first chapter of the story which was lingering in the back of my mind for a while. 
> 
> The chapters will be rather short, and I have no idea where this will take me. If you guys don't like it, then I will wrap it up really fast. So, to clear things up:  
> 1) Read the tugs and be warned for mature imagery as well as implied rape non-con (Sam/Lucifer) It won't be too graphic, but it is there. I warned you.
> 
> 2)I don't know the number of chapters for this story, but they won't be too many, or too long.
> 
> 3)I do not know when I will be able to post new chapters. My studies are at their pick and I am writting stories as a way of relaxing. I may finish this story next week, I may finish it next month, I have no idea. If that is something you don't like, please take it into account before starting to read.
> 
> 4)There will be wincest (Sam/Dean), because there always is, you know me guys.
> 
> 5) I will add more tugs if they are needed, be sure of it. 
> 
> 6) All mistakes are mine. No beta reader this time.
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any of its Characters. No money is made by this fic.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy!!! :-)

_**NOW...** _

 

 

What is a human soul? According to the lore, it's the soul that makes a human body be more than a shell. It's what makes us who we are. It's the reason we care for others, the reason we feel love, pain, anguish, joy and sadness, it's the reason for which we allow ourselves to hope, even when we are facing the darkest of times. But if that's what a soul is, then what happens when it's shuttered? What happens, when our soul is tainted and can no longer shine brightly, like a star which flickers as we turn our gaze on the ebony sky? When does such a bright creation cease to shine? What happens when a soul is past saving? What happens, to all those souls which can not be saved?

* * *

 

 

 

Dean knew his soul was tainted, that it was stained with the blood and tears of those poor beings, he himself had relentlessly tortured under Alistair's guidance. He knew his soul was no longer shining, it had stopped the moment his green eyes had turned black as the Mark of Cain turned him into a demon. Dean knew he was a lost cause, a man molded and broken by burdens no one should carry, a man who had been robbed, of his mother's tender touches, of his father's actual love and kindness. Dean knew he was past saving.

* * *

 

 

 

He had seen true darkness, the kind of which lures one to the other side, to that place where the light turns cold, where values no longer have meaning, where the soul deems away, leaving one empty and broken. Dean had been there and even though he had managed to return to his former self with the help of Sam, Cas, and of Charlie, he knew he could never be the same. No, Dean was not worth saving. Not by anyone, not for any reason. And yet, he was meant to be saved one more time.

* * *

 

 

He was meant to be saved by no other than Sam, who would rather let himself be used and tormented at the hands of the being he feared the most, than watch Dean suffer for Lucifer's mere amusement. But Dean wasn't worth it, no, he wasn't worth saving. His soul was dead. He knew it. Then, why was Sam doing this? Why was he allowing Lucifer to do this to him? Dean didn't know, he couldn't answer anything, he couldn't see, hear, or feel anything. Anything, save the terrifying image which his green eyes were witnessing.

* * *

 

 

So, there he was, standing frozen on the spot, in the main room of the overall dark underground bunker. Forced to watch, as Sam fell to his knees and was then thrown face-down on the floor, hands above his head. Forced to watch, as Lucifer got himself in between Sam's legs, lining up, pushing inside the young man, in one, long, dry and brutal thrust. There he was, forced to listen, as his brother's shirt and jeans were forcibly ripped to shreds, as Sam moaned and shrieked in pain, as flesh met flesh and blood started dripping on the floor.

* * *

 

 

There he was, forced to watch, as his beloved brother sacrificed his own soul, to save Dean's already wasted one.

 

Oh God, how had they come to this?

* * *

 

**_End of Chapter 1_ **


	2. “He, who defeated the Devil...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, thank you all so much for your support!!!  
> Let's move on to chapter 2!!!  
> Hope you will enjoy!  
> WARNING: Shown torture (At the beginning)

* * *

 

_ **NOW** _

 

Dean's eyes burned. Burned with rage and hate, burned with sadness and pain... Burned as they watched Lucifer engulf his fingers in flames, burned as they watched those fiery tips linger on the skin of Sam's inner knees, forming words as they moved. Bitch. Whore. Tainted. Dean wanted to turn away. He wanted to crawl in the corner and hug his head with his hands, so as to block the images and muffle the sounds. Lucifer let his hand fall to the side as he thrust forwards brutally, mercilessly, his cruel penetration tearing the sensitive flesh of Sam's entrance. The sound which emerged from the depths of Sam's throat was strange, neither a cry nor a shriek.

* * *

 

 

 

Dean wished for his soul to die right there and then. He wished for it to linger and die, like a rose assaulted by the cold winter's wind. Dean tried to turn away, but he then stopped himself. Sam yelped again, his body hitting the cold floor hard, as the Devil moved. Yes, Dean thought. Now it would be a good time to die...

 

* * *

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

 

Dean looked at his mother and for the first time ever since her unexpected return, he had the feeling that she was really looking back at him. “Dean... All this, it's my fault... And I am afraid that Sam won't forgive me-” “Mom, Sam never blamed you to begin with. Not even when he learned about your deal with Azazel.” The green eyed man reassured, allowing his mother to help him sit down on the one chair which was intact and not broken by the fierce fight which had taken place between Dean and Ketch. Dean lowered himself on the chair with slow, careful movements. His leg however, kept sending him sharp waves of pain every two minutes and the hunter was positive his knee was almost broken. Mary darted her head from right to the left, taking in, the two dead bodies which were now covered with blankets.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Mom, Ketch had it coming.” Dean's low, yet warm voice echoed in the room, making Mary turn her gaze back on her firstborn. “But Toni... She had a son Dean. A four-year-old son.” “That was Ketch's doing.” the hunter answered swiftly, leaving no room for an argument. Mary just lowered her gaze and grabbed the first-aid kit from where it was lying on the floor, bringing it before Dean's injured leg. “Even so, I got us into this. And now Sam is there and has to fight the Brits, because I trusted them. If something happens to him, then what am I supposed to--” The woman's rambling was short lived however, for Dean's deep, almost possessive tone made her blink and pause.

* * *

 

“Sam will fight and he will win. He promised me.” “The Brits are good, Dean-” “Sam is better. Better than them all. He has fought Lucifer and he won. Twice.” The last word was spoken sharply, in a weird tone. Mary's face darkened at that tone, but she chose to remain silent as she continued tending to Dean's wound as best as she could. Applying iodine to the torn flesh, the woman made sure to clean the wound before wrapping the ravaged skin in clear bandages. “When you were inside my head, you said that...” Trailing off, Mary took a minute to regain her composure before speaking again.

* * *

 

Dean allowed her to pretend, that her silence was a result of her focusing on fastening the knot she had made, in order to to secure the bandage around Dean's ravaged leg and keep it in place. When this was over, Mary had no choice but to speak again. “You said that Sam was tortured in Hell.” She muttered, voice wavering. “Then, how come he looks... Well, he looks fine to me.” Dean's bitter sigh made Mary lower her gaze even more. “For one, Cas helped with that.” The woman let her eyebrows come together at the sound of those words. “But you helped too, didn't you?” The question was spoken calmly, in an even voice.

* * *

 

 

How could Dean answer that? How could he tell his mother what he had done back then? How could he ever tell her that John had another kid? How could he ever tell her that he had chosen Sam over Adam in a blink of an eye, dooming the latter to a fate far worse than death? “Yes, I... I did what I had to, to help him.” Dean eventually admitted, pressing his hand on his knitted eyebrows. “But mom, what I did is not the reason why Sam looks fine.” But the green eyed man had to stop himself for yet another time. He wasn't allowed to reveal to his mother, that despite Cas' help, Sam still had nightmares and even got panic attacks whenever he was enclosed in a small room.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

No, he couldn't tell her that many were the nights during which, he was woken up by a desperate howl of his own name, to find Sam crawled into a ball, in the far corner of their room, shaking and trembling. And more importantly, he could never tell her that most of those nights, he and Sam had made love and then had fallen asleep, side by side, limps tangled up. “What do you mean, Dean?” Mary's small voice got Dean out of his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I mean that Sam is strong, mom. He looks fine to you, because despite the torments Lucifer put him through, Sam's heart is filled with love and care for others. He wants to help people, to make the world a better place. So he puts aside his own troubles and focuses on helping others. Even if that means, he'll have to face Lucifer again.” At that point, Dean's voice trailed off, and silence fell in the room. Mary's blue eyes shone under the yellowish light and she let her lips form a smile.

* * *

 

“Never did Sam succumb to Lucifer, mom. Never did he kneel before him, he never gave up. He is the man who defeated the Devil.” Those words were leaving Dean's lips fast, yet in a low tone, and at some point, the green eyed man paused to breathe. He wanted to say more. He wanted his mother to know that, even though Sam thought that his soul was tainted, stained with demon blood and broken, molded by Lucifer's cruel touch, this wasn't the case. No, Dean knew that, he had seen Sam's soul and he would never forget the feelings he got.

 

* * *

So, yes, Dean wanted to tell his mother about Sammy's soul, how it was still shining like an evening star, shining with a purifying light which was what was keeping Dean on the right track. He wanted to tell her, God, how he wanted to. But he didn't, not only because she was his mother, but because he doubted he could ever utter those words aloud to begin with. Swallowing soundly, Dean let his eyes fall closed, taking a moment to organize his swirling thoughts. When he spoke again, his words were meaningful and true. “So, don't worry about the Brits, mom. Sam will kick their fine ass. He will come back to me.” Dean's whisper almost went unheard by Mary, who was placing the first aid kit aside at that moment. She fixed her gaze on Dean's vacant one, asking with her eyes what she couldn't with words.

 

_What do you mean?_

* * *

__

“Sam will come back to me, to us mom, and then we can start over. Be a proper family. Me, you and Sammy.” Dean quickly added, cursing inwardly for his big mouth. It was true that he and Sam had crossed the line of being more than brothers many, many years ago, but that was something Mary didn't really have to know. But then, Dean's green eyes widened in realization. He had uttered those same words a long time ago, at the time when he and Sam were looking for John. Back then, he had dared to speak of his endless longing, of his desire to put what was left of his family back together.

* * *

 

 

But as fate would have it, that wish was never meant to be granted... After his father's sudden death, Dean raised thick walls inside his mind and heart, making sure to never again allow his feelings to take over him. But that endless longing, the need to have his family by his side, to have their protection, their love, their tenderness, was something he could never control. So, as the years passed, Dean did the only thing he could, so as to suppress that feeling of unfulfillment, which was lingering in his heart. He focused on the only living member of his family. His brother. His Sammy.

* * *

 

 

If Sam was alright, then that was all Dean ever wanted. So long he had his brother by his side, Dean could swear he was feeling relieved, complete and at ease. That longing still haunted his troubled mind, but when Sam was near, Dean knew he had what he needed. But now, as his emerald green eyes took in the image of his mother, Dean could once again feel that same longing coming alive deep inside him, setting his heart on fire, giving life to hopes long deemed gone. Maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different. Maybe, this time, he would finally gather his family together... Yes, the only thing missing, was Sam. And Sam would be back soon, Dean was sure of it. And then, they could start over. They could be a proper family.

* * *

“Mom, I mean it. When Sam gets back, we can-” Before Dean could add anything else however, the lights of the bunker flickered and the air momentarily cooled, as if a ghost had just entered. Both Mary as well as Dean, tensed, the instinct of the hunter taking over them in less than a fragment of a second. Mary turned around swiftly, reaching behind her back, for the gun she always kept in the back of her jeans. The clicking sound of the safety being removed was swallowed by the humming noise of the flickering lights, but Dean's keen eyes caught the movement. For a few minutes no one dared to breathe, but when the lights went back to normal, the green eyed man let his shoulders fall, all the while resting his back on the wooden chair.

 

* * *

“Don't worry mom, the lights probably got messed up by what that son of a bitch did earlier. I'll have Sam take a look when he comes back.” Dean smiled at his mother, who then relaxed her hold on the gun she was gripping. “Sorry, guess you're right.” She eventually muttered, lowering her gaze. “Old habits die hard huh?” She added, flicking her eyes between her gun and Dean, whose lips were turned upwards. His smile was short lived however, as a cold, disturbingly thick voice echoed in the bunker's main room. “Oh, she's got a point, you know.” The voice said, and a male figure which Dean had hoped would never see again crawled out of a dark corner...

* * *

“Old habits die hard. Old loves, they die harder... Don't they, Dean?” The voice questioned, making the hair on Dean's arms rise, as a chill worked its way down his spine. This couldn't be...

 

_ **End of chapter 2**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if you liked this... Please, let me know if you can! I have also no idea regarding the date I will update, but I think it will be sometime next week.  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi


	3. “Fear, fear, as the Devil draws near...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having a really, really rough day. There are really hard desicions my family has to make. So I needed a way out. Write fiction and study for my exams is all I can do. Sorry if there are mistakes, it's late at night.

_ **NOW...** _

 

 

What is more valiant? Allowing the Devil to torture you, or standing still, frozen in place, eyes fixed on the floor, staring at the Devil tormenting the person you love the most?

* * *

 

 

Dean didn't know. All he could see was the small knife which Lucifer was dragging on the skin of Sam's back. With slow, elegant moves he carved and cut the skin, relishing the sight of blood dying the edge of the knife. Sam couldn't even moan in pain anymore. He was floating in the air, a few inches above the ground, hands on the back of his head, facing Dean, who was frozen in place.

* * *

 

 

He yearned to flee. Yet, he knew he couldn't. Sam was allowing Lucifer to torture him. Yet his hazel eyes were fixed on Dean, seeking the courage which was hiding in those emerald green orbs. Seeking the courage to keep fighting. But Dean was empty, he had nothing left. No bravery, no courage, no hope. And he certainly had no valiance... And yet, there he was, still on his feet. Eyes on Sam...

* * *

_ **THEN...** _

 

 

“Old habits die hard. Old loves, they die harder... Don't they, Dean?” The voice questioned, making the hair on Dean's arms rise, as a chill worked its way down his spine. This couldn't be...

* * *

 

 

Mary turned around abruptly, raising her gun, pointing the man in between the eyes. “Who the hell are you?” She demanded, voice steady, finger on the trigger. Dean's breath was caught in his throat and his body was numb, unable to move an inch. How... How could this be? “I asked you a fucking question, now answer it, before I put a bullet right in between your eyes!” Mary snapped, her sharp tone making Dean blink.

 

* * *

“Wow, mama is a tough one, isn't she?” The figure asked and only then did Dean found the strength to get up from his chair. “Oh, that looks bad.” The man said, face twitching with supposed concern. “Maybe I could fix it, you know, heal you if you want-” “How did you get in here Lucifer?” Dean asked, eyes flicking around the room. “Lucifer? You mean the fallen angel? But you told me that-” Mary's sentence was cut off however, as the man in question spoke again. “Not a fallen Angel mama Mary, an Archangel. The Archangel of light, the beloved son of God, who will soon have a son of his own!” Lucifer corrected, an evil smirk on his face.

 

* * *

 

“As for how I got here, well...” The fallen angel cast a glimpse over his shoulder to where Ketch's lifeless body was lying and then let his eyes find their way back on Mary—who was still pointing her gun at him-- and on Dean, who was now standing next to her, favoring his left side. “That guy shut the bunker down, so all your warding spells were gone as well.” The archangel explained dully, savoring the look of surprise on Dean's face. Green eyes flew open as time around Dean seemed to slow down.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean could remember himself turning the lever which was providing the bunker with electricity back up, thus turning the lights on. And then he took several steps to his right, turning the second lever back up. That was the warding-system and he-- Cold sweat started running down Dean's face and the hunter was not sure it was there because of the sharp pain in his leg. The second lever was not the one responsible for the warding-system. It was the one which reversed the flow of the air back to normal. And as Dean dared to look Lucifer straight in the eyes, he could clearly recall leaving the room after he had turned the second lever back up. Forgetting to turn the third one...

 

* * *

 

 

Swallowing soundly, Dean lowered his gaze. The explosion, and more importantly, the debris caused by it, had damaged his leg badly and at that time, all that Dean could think, was to turn the two basic levers back up so that Sam wouldn't die of asphyxiation. The high level of pain had clouded his mind. The mental note he had made, to return back in the control room and power up the warding-system had faded from his memory. Until now. “Didn't think that any supernatural creature could enter your underground fortress, did you?” Lucifer asked, eyes filled with irony. “Of course you didn't, you're not the smartest guy I've ever met.” At that point, Lucifer paused, darting his head around the room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Speaking of which... Where is our favorite lawyer?” The promise these words held, made Dean swallow soundly, face cringing visibly. Worry about Sam took him over, the pain in his leg forgotten in an instant. Dean lashed forwards before Lucifer had the time to let his ironic smile fall from his lips, grabbing fistfuls of the leather jacket the fallen angel was wearing. Dean pushed the taller man back, biting the inside of his cheek to the point of drawing blood when he put weight on his injured leg. Yet, he let none of the discomfort he was feeling show on his face. His green eyes were burning as rage, fear, determination and hate were battling to take over him.

 

* * *

 

 

But Dean pushed them down, and he could swear the gears of his mind could be heard turning. He placed himself in between the Devil and his mother, knowing that the gun she was holding could do nothing to the Archangel. Fixing his green eyes to the ones of the man before him, Dean made sure to use his broad shoulders to block his mother's form from Lucifer's line of sight. That way, she could paint the expelling symbol without being noticed. And once Lucifer was gone, Dean would run to the control room to power the freaking warding back up. All he needed was Lucifer's gaze on him and not on his mother. Clearing his throat, Dean spoke, voice poisonous.

 

* * *

 

 

“Listen up, you son of a bitch, I don't know why you're not in your Goddamned cage, I don't know who got you out, or how you got here...” Dean paused then, his eyes narrowing on his face, as they witnessed Lucifer raising an eyebrow. “Well, that second question of yours is not so hard to figure out, is it Dean?” Lucifer mocked, grabbing the hunter's wrist in a vice-like grip. “That's what you get when you befriend a low-life demon who proclaims to be the King of Hell.” Lucifer explained, amused as he watched all color leaving Dean's already pale face. “Oh, but don't worry. I killed him. His red-haired mother too.” The words fell on Dean as if they were a tone of bricks, hitting him hard and fast.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean wasn't feeling sad that the King of Hell was dead, to the contrary. Yet, at the sound of those words, every alarm bell started ringing in his head. If both Crowley and Rowena were dead, then how the Hell was Lucifer supposed to be put back in his forsaken Cage? “What do you want Lucifer?” The hunter muttered lowly, while raising up to his full height in an attempt to shield his mother's figure. He just had to play along for a minute or two... “I am killing time until my son comes rocking into this sad little world of yours.” The Devil replied, sheer irony filling his voice.

 

* * *

 

 

“The kid is dead, the Brits killed your girlfriend along with your son.” Dean spat, torn between wishing for this statement to be true and wishing for his mother to just paint the fucking symbol. “Dean, Dean, Dean...” Lucifer's snarky, low voice was accompanied by the slightest movement of his free hand. Before the green eyed man could blink, he found himself falling backwards, hitting the cold floor hard and fast. His injured leg was shaken to its core by the impact and Dean was sure all air left his lungs, as a pained yelp escaped his lips.

 

* * *

 

 

Through blurry eyes, Dean saw Lucifer kneeling beside him, his long hand extended, moving threateningly towards his neck. “You suck at lying, you know that?” Before the fallen Angel could touch Dean however, a series of well aimed gunshots broke the silence. Keen green eyes flew open as they witnessed one, then a second and a third hole ripping through Lucifer's figure. Three holes, one on his right shoulder, the next on his left, right above his heart, and the third one on his sternum. The fallen Angel came to a sudden halt, flicking his gaze from Dean to Mary.

 

* * *

 

 

“Um... That was... fun, I guess?” A part of Dean could not help but wonder, where was so much irony coming from? Lucifer retreated, getting back on his feet, taking step after step towards Mary, who fired the rest of the bullets her gun had, all the while refusing to take a single step back. Dean rolled over to his stomach and using his hands as well as his uninjured leg, he managed to stand, taking a few wobbly steps to his left. Darting his eyes on the nearby walls, his heart sunk. There was no expelling symbol painted on any of them. It was then, that the shocking realization hit him. Mary had never had to expel an angel from a room. She had no idea how to paint the symbol.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, mama Mary...” The fallen Angel hummed, grabbing both of Mary's wrists with his right hand, making her drop her gun, which landed on the floor with a thud. “You have potential... I can see why Azazel chose you...” His words were spoken in a low tone, which made the woman freeze in place. “But you just wasted all your bullets, am I right?” With a wave of his free hand, Lucifer threw Dean on the opposite wall of the room, making him drop his Swiss knife before he had the time to cut his palm with it. His pained grunt made Mary flinch and she started thrusting against her capture's vicious hold, yet again. “Ah, not only did you waste the bullets, but you don't know how to make the one symbol which can cast me out of here, am I right sweetheart?” He questioned, smiling evilly.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know so much, and yet no one bothered to teach you that symbol... Tsk, Tsk, Tsk, now that, is what I call a major mistake...” Lucifer announced, turning his gaze on Dean, who was also struggling against invisible bonds. “Now, since I know exactly where that loyal, useless angel of yours is hiding my son, all I have to do is wait until he pops out. Until then...” Dean's eyes widened at the sound of those words and he growled deep in his throat. The fallen angel chose to ignore him, in favor of inhaling deeply, taking in Mary's scent. “Is this how you get off, you slummy son of a bitch?” She muttered, disgust audible in her voice.

 

* * *

 

 

“Not really... See, mama Mary, I have a thing for brunettes.” Lucifer replied, casting a look over his shoulder at Dean, whose face was white as a sheet. “Especially the ones with hazel eyes...” The words were not spoken aloud, but instead were silently mouthed to Dean, who started ranting. “You sick son of a bitch, you won't touch him, ever again you hear me? I'll throw you in Hell and then I'll come down there myself and show you just what Alistair taught me those ten years!” Mary's face frowned at the sound of the name Alistair, and her gaze found the one of her son. “Oh, that's scary...” Lucifer muttered, making sure to let fear and mockery show clear as day on his face. Dean could only growl.

 

* * *

 

 

“But let's get back to you, mama.” Lucifer announced, voice playful. “A hunter like you should know the notorious Alistair, the great tormentor.” Mary lowered her gaze, nodding her head in approval. “I had heard rumors about him.” “Oh, but rumors are not even close to what he _**can**_ do-” “What he _**could**_ do.” Dean corrected, voice low, yet there was an edge of irony in it. Raising an eyebrow, Lucifer eyed Dean. “You want to talk about Alistair, that's fine. You want to tell her how he tortured me for more than thirty years when I was in Hell, go ahead and do it. But remember-” Dean's ranting was short lived however, as Lucifer cut him off.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Well, actually, I was planning on letting your mom know of the souls you yourself had tortured, when you took Alistair's deal.” Mary's face twitched and a mix of what could be easily identified as shock and disgust was painted all over it. “Woops... Forgot to mention that, did you Dean?” The smile was wide across the Devil's face. “He was Alistair's student, and a great one of that.” He added, feeling Mary's body shaking. “Oh, the souls he has tortured under Alistair's watchful gaze... The things he did to them...” The Devil let the words fall from his lips slowly, evenly. “So, what was it, that you wanted me to remember, Dean?” Lucifer questioned, aware of Dean's attempts to turn his face away from his mother's piercing glance.

 

* * *

 

 

For a few moments, it seemed as though Dean was unable to speak. Mary's eyes were fixed on him, requesting answers to questions she knew should had already been uttered from her part. After a while however, Dean found the courage to speak up. And his words were spoken calmly, yet with the strength of a building fire. His voice wavered at first, but it then became steadier by the second, as if he was drawing power out from some secret source deep within his heart. And maybe he was...

 

* * *

 

 

“You should never forget, Lucifer... That Alistair is dead, once and for all. You should never forget, that it was Sam who killed him. It was Sam, who defeated Alistair, and then he defeated you as well.” There, Dean paused, locking his eyes with those of his mother again. Mary couldn't help but notice the sheer amount of faith, awe and adoration Dean's words contained. And much like the Devil, Mary knew beyond any doubt, that they were truthful to the very last syllable. “So, you can go on, lay out all my failures, all my mistakes. Make this woman hate me, if that's what you came here for. But remember, that Sam was always there, to make things right. There, to send you crumbling down into that Cage of yours. And make no mistake... He will do it again.”

 

* * *

 

 

After that, everything were quiet, as an eerie, heavy silence coated the room. Lucifer's shiny red orbs met fierce green ones, and one could almost taste the hatred radiating out of Lucifer. Yet, no words were uttered. All remained still. Quiet. Calm. It was the calm before the storm. The stillness before thunder struck.

The heavenly peace, before the hellish havoc.

 

 

_ **End of Chapter 3** _

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! Please make my day with your comments... They keep me going!  
> Until next time,  
> Love you all  
> Usagi


	4. "Blood in my whiskey..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here I am. I really wanted to post this chapter today, because I was very stressed, and I needed to relax. I hope that you will enjoy it!
> 
> NOTE: I took the liberty of expanding Lucifer's powers for the needs of the story.  
> NOTE 2: Be WARNED: Graphic torture, blood, and whipping are depicted in this chapter. Please, be warned and avoid reading if such imagery triggers you.

**_ NOW… _ **

 

Dean couldn't always be sure of what was right and what was wrong. But at that certain point, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that what Sam had offered to do, was wrong. So horribly wrong... Dean's green eyes moved to the ceiling, where heavy chains were now hooked on. His gaze followed the cold metal downwards and he found himself counting the links of the chain, which held Sam's right hand, stretched high above the young man's bowed head.

* * *

 

 

Sam was not exactly standing. His weight was not supported by his scratched knees, for his legs were too shaky to perform the task. Instead, it was the chain which was hanging from the ceiling that was doing the work. Lucifer was standing behind Sam, laughing menacingly, as he let the belt he was holding in his right hand find its target. The cruel sound of leather meeting flesh echoed loud throughout the bunker. It was a haunting, sharp sound, yet Dean didn't even flinch. His blurry eyes were fixed on Sam and it seemed as though the rest of his senses had ceased to work.

* * *

 

And, by God, Dean wished for Alistair to appear out of nowhere and rip those eyes right out of Dean's skull. Because what he was seeing, was a sight no man should ever behold. Sam was unconscious, or so Dean wanted to think. His right hand was bound to the heavy chain hanging from the ceiling, whilst his left was lying spent on Sam's side, fingertips only inches away from the floor. His knees had given out on him a while ago, and thus, his full weight was held by the chain bound to his right wrist. His knees were bent as much as his extended hand would allow them, and Sam's head was bowed, long hair covering his forehead and his eyes. Dean didn't know if he wished for them to be shut or open, so that they could catch a glimpse of tear-filled green ones.

* * *

Dean moved slowly, hoping to get a glimpse of Sam's face. He took one, then a second, and then a third step to his right, but then halted abruptly, as he heard a small splashing sound. Daring to lower his gaze for a mere second, Dean saw that he had stepped on the rather large pool of whiskey which had been created earlier. Shards of broken glass, which until an hour ago were a part of a fine glass and of an equally fine bottle, lingered nearby. The sharp sound of the belt being fiercely crushed on Sam's flesh, was followed by a pained, yet muffled scream. Dean abruptly tried to move, to reach his brother, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier, which was forged by Lucifer.

* * *

The fallen Angel had shown the full capacity of his powers ever since he had entered the bunker. He was able to immobilize Dean by just thinking about it, he could forge heavy, metallic chains, whips and lashes, hooks and daggers, out of thin air. His powers were seemingly coming from the depths of Hell, as he was able to engulf his fingers in flames, which he then used, to mark Sam's skin brutally. He could also create large pieces of ice, pointing out the fact that, he isn't really burning hot, on the contrary, he was as cold as ice. But what made Dean sick, were not Lucifer's Hellish powers, but his heavenly ones. Lucifer was using his healing powers on Sam every time the young man was on the verge of passing out. It was as if Sam was electrocuted, for his eyes would fly open, and he would let out a shriek as his flesh was knitted back together, slowly, piece by piece, only for Lucifer to start taking it apart all over again.

* * *

 

Yet another lash cut the air and Sam lowly moaned. That was when Dean turned his gaze away from the heartbreaking sight and into the pool of the brown liquor. His green eyes were mirrored in the whiskey, wet with tears, sad and dead, like  green leaves which are burned by the snow, and turn to ash... He was sure that he was drowning in there, a pathetic, worthless little man, tainted, manipulated and oh, so helpless. Yes, he was drowning in that hellish marsh, because the earth was caving in, from under his feet, because every time Lucifer moved that belt, hitting Sam's naked back, Dean could feel all air leaving his lungs, leaving them empty to rot. He was sure that Sam's blood was taking the place of much needed air in his lungs, making him unable to breathe.

* * *

 

Or maybe, it was just stinky bile, which was waiting to be unleashed. Because Dean wanted to vomit and then let himself sink in that dirty pile. He had no hope left. No courage to fight the invisible bonds Lucifer had created to hold him in place. He just wanted to die, he couldn't stand watching as Lucifer tore Sam to pieces again and again. He couldn't stand to watch as the thick leather belt met Sam's already carved back, time after time, leaving long gashes, tearing the skin and the muscles underneath, to the point where Sam's shoulder blades could be seen. No, he didn't want to watch this anymore.

* * *

 

Dean wanted to let that pool of whiskey swallow him whole. He needed no one's hand to grab his own and pull him back up. He wasn't worth it. And yet, as Dean shot his head up and let his gaze find Sam's torn body, he understood that even though he was not worth saving, there still was a hand waiting to grab his own, to save him, to pull him back up, away from the dark, cold, empty rooms of his own mind... Sam's body had leaned forwards even more, as Lucifer continued his assault on that board back, and now his free hand was also mirrored in that brown pool. The tips of his long fingers were barely touching the brown liquor and as small droplets of blood trickled down along the length of Sam's palm, the two colors were mixed together, creating a dark red lake.

* * *

 

Dean could swear he could see a shadow of himself emerging from that lake, a bloody hand stretching upwards, brushing Sam’s numb fingertips… The hunter let his eyes fall closed. The sound of the belt hitting Sam’s flesh pierced Dean’s ears and made him reopen his eyes. Large drops of blood fell on that pool, disturbing the brown liquor, staining Dean’s reflection, making the hand Dean had imagined emerging from the pool, back down and fade away…

* * *

 

 

**_ THEN... _ **

 

Lucifer remained quiet for a long moment, as if he couldn't decide what path to follow. But after a few moments during which Dean was sure his heartbeat could be heard by everyone in the room, the archangel spoke, voice low, poisonous. “Dean... You think Sam will come here and defeat me?” Dean remained silent and still, glaring daggers at the fallen angel. That was all the answer Lucifer needed. “I like your optimism, Dean, and I really hate to crush your blooming hopes, but this is not going to happen.” “That was what you said last time. And the time before that.” Dean spat, anger in his voice.

* * *

 

The Devil hummed as he eyed Mary. “Well, good politicians have to admit their mistakes.” He said, mimicking the voice of his last victim, the president of the United States. “And I know mine. Last time, I allowed you to live. I thought that Sam was the major threat, and he really was, up until the mess with Amara.” Lucifer explained with a smirk, all the while he turned his back on both Dean and Mary and headed towards a lone desk, on which lingered a bottle of Whiskey. “But now, he is nothing more than an insignificant bug, which I am going to crush.” He continued, grabbing a fine glass from an open cupboard, pouring in the drink.  

* * *

 

 

“So, what are you going to do, you're gonna kill us?” Mary managed to utter through gritted teeth. “Oh, mama Mary is back in action! That's very good!” Mary, who was standing still, held in place by invisible bonds and by Lucifer's telekinetic powers, couldn't stop herself from narrowing her eyes at that remark. “I could do that, but then where would the fun be? No, no, mama Mary. I am not here for you. I am not here to kill you. Although, that may eventually occur, rest assured, it won't be intentional. It will be collateral damage. I want to watch, as you will try to stop me from getting my son under my protective wing. The thing is, I don't need all three of you for that.” “Lucifer just-” Shut up Dean!” A yelp followed that order and Dean felt in invisible hand clenching round his throat.

* * *

 

 

Gasping for air, the hunter could see his mother trying to break free from Lucifer's mental hold, having no success in doing so. “All your bravado, it's but a facade. You reek of fear, so much fear...” The Devil said, drawing the words out while walking towards Dean. With slow, even steps he moved, getting himself behind the green eyed hunter, so that he could keep his eyes on Mary, who was across the room. “You ask what I am here for, what I am going to do.” Lucifer said, watching as Mary cringed at the sound of those words.

* * *

 

 

“I am here, because I have to make sure that my promise is kept. See, mama Mary, last time I saw little Sammy--” “Don't you dare call him by that name.” Dean's tone was sharper than the edge of a blade and he tried to turn his face towards the Devil. “Oh, pardon, I hear only you get to call him that. Well, maybe now that he will come back, he will allow me to call him 'Sammy' as well.” So promising was Lucifer's voice, that Dean felt his heart stopping. “Now, back to you and your ignorance, mama. There is so much you don't know and I feel obliged to fill you in.” Lucifer spat, kicking Dean's injured leg, making the hunter growl and Mary cry out.

* * *

 

 

“I made him a promise. I told him, that this wasn't over. And over, it is not. So, I am here to finally take what I want. And once I have...” Here, Lucifer's voice fainted to a whisper only Dean heard. “Then we will see if you will ever want to touch him again, dear Dean...” “What are you talking about?” Mary snapped, glaring daggers at the Devil. “Sam will beat you-” "Sam will kneel before me, Dean." He snarled, taking a long sip of his whiskey, letting his bottom lip linger on the brim of the glass. “He will give me everything I want. No matter what I ask of him, he will do it. Willingly." Lucifer continued, voice low, softened by the whiskey. "Sam will never do that. Why would he do anything you ask of him willingly?" Dean rasped.

* * *

 

 

“Seriously, Dean... Sam would have figured it out already, and honestly, I am getting kind of bored here...” A high-pitched yelp escaped Mary's lips as the mental hold around her wrists tightened even more. Dean tried to free himself, but gave up, understanding that it was pointless. “You're not here to  kill us...” Mary uttered pounding hard. “You're here to make sure that Sam will have no choice but to do what you want him to. You will use us as bate...” The words were spoken sharply, as Mary could only take in shallow, ragged breaths. “See, Dean, now I get it. Sam took after your dear mom...” Lucifer said, an evil, promising grin appearing on his face.

* * *

 

 

All of a sudden however, his smile fainted. His face became unreadable for a few seconds, his glowing eyes flicking between Dean, Mary and one of the many desks the main room had. It seemed to Dean, that Lucifer was trying to sense something in the air. What it was, that Lucifer was trying to figure out however, he could not tell. Yet. “Now, if I recall correctly, since I am a guest of honor, here at your establishment, you should ask me to take a seat.” Lucifer added after a few moments of silence. The Devil moved towards the desk, dragging Mary along, forcing her to sit down on the one chair Dean was occupying earlier. The fallen Angel moved to his left, grabbing a chair which had been turned upside down. He swiftly brought it across from the one Mary was placed on, so that the desk was in the middle. With a wave of his hand, Lucifer made Dean start walking, or well, limping, towards the other chair.

* * *

 

 

Once both hunters were seated, it was impossible not to let their gazes meet. “So, you want to torture us while we sit here?” Mary asked, irony in her voice. Meanwhile, Dean tried for yet another time to move, but found himself pinned on the chair. He was sure that his mother was unable to move either. “Oh, but no, no, no...” Lucifer almost sang, eyes closed, face now twitching with emotions Dean could not read. “I just thought that we should plan a...” Here his voice trailed off, as his eyes opened. “A surprise.” Dean felt a chill working its way down his spine. The tone of those words was dark, threatening, promising...

* * *

 

 

“What the hell are you mumbling about?” Mary snapped, but Lucifer just ignored her. He placed the bottle of whiskey on the table and he let the glass he was holding on Dean's side. He then, started backtracking, getting away from the desk, with his red eyes fixed on the two hunters. He withdrew in the dark corner from which he had crawled out from, and it was a terrifying sight to behold. His tall figure seemed to be disappearing as it was swallowed by the shadows of the surrounding walls, inch by inch.

* * *

 

 

“Lucifer, you fucking coward-” Mary's ranting was cut off, however, as Lucifer placed his index finger on his lips, wordlessly commanding for silence. His head was the last part of his body to be shaded, and Dean gasped as his eyes started glowing even brighter in the dark, glowing bright red, like coals which were engulfed in dazzling flames. It was only then, that Dean understood what was happening. It was only then that he understood, whose presence the Devil had sensed in the air. It was only then that he realized, who the surprise was for. All color was drained from Dean's already pale face, and his eyes looked bizarre on his ashen skin.

* * *

 

 

Mary got ready to speak, ask what was going on. Dean got ready to scream, to let the shock-wave of his hoarse voice tear his insides apart, so that his call could be heard throughout the bunker. But neither a muffled mutter, nor yet a hoarse scream echoed in the room. Instead, deafening silence was left hanging over the heads of hunters and of hunted alike. Silence, which was interrupted only by the creaking sound of the old metallic door of the bunker, as a long, trained, yet tired hand, pushed it open and Sam's tall figure, which Dean could make out everywhere, entered the bunker and started climbing down the stairs...

* * *

 

 

Lucifer smiled in the darkness... "Enter Sammy... Time to take me to that long awaited prom... You have turned me down too many times, but that will come to an end..."

* * *

 

** _End of chapter 4_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that you enjoyed!!! Please, leave a comment if you want!! They keep me going!!!!  
> Until next chapter,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!!!


	5. Enter Sammy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is chapter 5!! Thank you all for reading the story! Special thanks to LisaMichele69, for making my day with her meaningful and great comments!!  
> Also, a huge thanks to my lovely beta-reader "Geekyfangirl131" for her help with this chapter!!
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of breaking bones, pain, and blood. Also, there are mentions of past abuse, past torture and past trauma. Because I chose not to forget them, like the show did. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy!!

_ **Chapter 5: “Enter Sammy...”** _

 

_ **NOW...** _

 

 

 

Dean's teeth were chattering and he could see his breath crystallizing every time he would exhale. The air around him was now cold and a thin layer of ice was coating the floor. The pool of whiskey and blood was frozen as well, and Dean could swear that the cold which he could feel creeping within his body was turning his own blood into ice. The only positive outcome of Lucifer's new game, was that Dean's leg was numb, the bleeding had stopped along with the pain. But Dean craved for the pain to come and break the focus of his mind. He needed an excuse to drag his tired eyes away from the sight they were beholding.

* * *

 

 

 

Sam's hands were still immobilized, and now both of them were stretched high above his head, shackled to the heavy chains which were hooked on the ceiling. His torn lips were quivering and his teeth were clattering so hard, Dean was positive they could break to pieces. His bare feet were touching the thin layer of ice which lingered on the floor and all around Sam's figure, frozen drops of blood had stained the surface. Sharp shards of ice, shaped like needles, were in between Sam's legs, keeping them apart while at the same time tearing the already wasted jeans the young man was wearing.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Lucifer was absorbed in his work. He was creating large pieces of ice and he was trapping Sam's limbs within them. The cubes, even though they were large were not very thick, but Dean couldn't understand the reason why. All he could see, was the ice which started from Sam's ankle and was progressing slowly, yet steadily, enclosing Sam's left leg, circling around it like a vine, higher and higher, freezing the blood, making Sam lose all control over his leg. Lucifer let his eyes linger on his work for a second and when the ice cube had reached Sam's left thigh, the archangel moved a few inches and shackled Sam's right ankle in an icy ring. He then expanded it, following the same procedure as before.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Only this time he went slower and Dean could hear Sam's pained inhales as the ice moved upwards. Low shrieks and moans emerged from the depths of Sam's throat and Dean could tell that he was feeling thousands of needles penetrating his skin, as it came in touch, and then it was trapped within the ice cube. To Dean it felt like years, but finally, when both of Sam's legs were immobilized and numb, Lucifer paused and took many steps backwards, reaching Dean. The Devil stood next to the hunter and let his gaze roam over Sam's trembling frame. “Beautiful? Isn't he?” Lucifer asked, addressing towards Dean.

* * *

 

 

 

 

The green eyed man said nothing, careful to keep his eyes on Sam's bowed head. “You must be wondering, why the ice is not thick. That's because if it were, then I wouldn't really enjoy the next part.” The Devil continued, voice sickly excited. Dean swallowed hard, eyes watering. “Please...” “Please, what Dean?” Lucifer questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Please what?” Dean paused, eyes taking in, Sam's torn body.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

His wrists were cut from the shackles, his chest carved by Lucifer's knife, his ribs cracked to the point where Dean could make out Lucifer's knuckles. As for his legs, they were held apart by needle-like shards of ice, which were in between them, and they were both trapped in separate, large ice cubes which began at Sam's ankles and ended at his thighs. As for his back, it was nothing else but a mass of bloody meat, whipped to the point where, Sam's bones could be seen. Lucifer had stopped the bleeding so that he could chain up Sam's free hand, but he hadn't healed the wounds, he himself had inflicted.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Please... Get done with it.” Dean croaked, turning his face away from Sam and towards Lucifer, eyeing his capture for the first time in a long while. “Oh, but I will get it done Dean. In a while. As you know, my son will soon be here and I would really like to be the first one to hold him. You know, being his dad and all.” The Devil announced happily, patting Dean on the shoulder. The hunter flinched and swiftly moved away. “Come on now Dean, don't give me the cold shoulder!” Lucifer complained, waving his hands. “But I guess it really is cold in here so...” Dean could only clench his fingers into fists. “See what I did there? With the word 'cold' and with... Ah, you don't appreciate sarcasm, do you?” The Devil sounded disappointed.

* * *

 

 

 

Silence coated the room then, broken only by the occasional moans which would escape Sam's lips. “You are wondering why the ice isn't that thick, am I right?” Lucifer asked after a few minutes. Dean stayed still, eyeing his brother. “Well, that's because I want to enjoy the next part.” The Devil explained yet again, as he moved towards the nearby wall, taking a hold of Dean's wooden bat, which was hanging there. “Nice toy...” He mumbled, more to himself rather than Dean, as he adjusted his grip on the lower part of the bat. He then returned next to Dean, eyes shining red.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

“See, Dean, the thicker the ice is, the more the muscles freeze, the more numb one feels. For example, if your hand is trapped in a thick piece of ice, I can break it and make you see your own bones and still, you wouldn't feel a thing.” The fallen angel said, savoring the sight of Dean's eyes, as they widened and then fell closed in a gesture of utter despair. “But now, I am going to enjoy the show...” He continued as he marched towards Sam with slow, even steps. The younger man shuddered from the cold and Lucifer cupped his cheek with his hand. “Don't touch him!” Dean snapped, but his comment fell on deaf ears.

* * *

 

 

 

“Are you cold, Sammy?” Lucifer asked, softening his voice. For the first time in a very long while, Sam managed to oblige his eyes to open. He gave a weak nod, unaware of the reason why. His mind was blank. “Oh, but that's the point... See, Sammy... Revenge is a plate best served cold...” He continued, giving Sam one of his best and most promising smiles. Silence then fell in the room as Lucifer let his hand travel all the way down, from Sam's torn lips to his carved chest, to his crotch, to his right leg. Lucifer took a few steps backwards as Dean took in a collective breath.

* * *

 

 

 

 

A whistling sound was heard, as the bat moved, followed by the cracking of ice and of bone. Dean was sure he would pass out as he watched the bat he loved so much crush Sam's left ankle. His own heartbeat echoed in his ears and his stomach flipped at the peculiar sound of crushing ice and bones, which was then heard. One beat, then a second one... Thump- thump... Then a third one... Thu- But Dean never got to hear it, as it was swallowed by a bizarre howl, filled with pain. It took Dean a few moments to realize it was Sam who had screamed...

* * *

 

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

 

Dean wanted to cry out for Sam to run. But try as he might, he couldn't work his mouth to open, for it was dry and his tongue seemed to be a thick,stiff board. So, he could only watch, utterly terrified, as Sam climbed down the stairs and started walking towards where Dean and Mary were sitting. And yet, despite the situation, there was a part of him which was thrilled by the fact that Sam was alive and well. He had crushed the Brits and he had come back... Dean let his green eyes find Sam's hazel ones as the tall hunter reached the desk and stood at its side, Dean at his right hand, Mary at his left hand. His broad back was turned on the wall, and thus on Lucifer.

* * *

 

 

“Sam!” Mary called out urgently, but all of a sudden, words different from those she wanted to utter, left her lips. “You're back!” Sam turned his gaze on her and offered a weak smile. “Yeah, mom, I'm back, as for the Brits, the matter is closed.” Sam explained, his expression dark and ominous. Sam let his hazel orbs find Dean's green ones and the older man, aware of the fact that Lucifer wouldn't allow him to warn Sam with words, tried to convey all the things he couldn't speak of, in one, meaningful gaze. Sam's face frowned and tried to scrutinize the one of his brother.

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean... I'm here, just like I promised.” Sam offered weakly, noticing the worry and fear in Dean's gaze. But all Dean did, was to stare at him even harder with eyes so big and scared, Sam felt his heart missing a beat. Assuming Dean was worried about him, Sam let out a long sigh, and after a second, during which he was standing still, he kneeled before Dean, placing a callused hand on Dean's injured leg, making sure not to touch the bandaged flesh. Mary's eyebrows came together, but she remained silent. “Dean...” Sam muttered, as his hand which was lingering on Dean's leg started to shake. “I'm right here, alright?” He repeated, shaking his head so that his hair wouldn't cover his eyes.

* * *

 

 

 

Dean couldn't resist, he placed a hand on the back of Sam's neck and gave a squeeze, nodding in approval as he did so. “Yeah... Welcome back, Sammy...” Dean spoke the words in a low tone, drawing them out for as long as possible. He willed Sam's head to stay still so that he could look at Sam, a hint which the young man took, and obliged. Their eyes met again and Sam wanted nothing more than to let Dean hold him, conceal him from the threat Sam knew was his worst fear. Dean seemed to sense Sam's stiffness and pulled him even closer, but before he could crush him on his chest, Mary spoke.

* * *

 

 

“So, how did it go?” Mary asked, making Sam tear his gaze from Dean as well as, get away from him and back on his feet. “We had some casualties... But the job is done.” Sam said, forcing a smile on his face. “But?” Dean said, understanding Sam was hiding something. Hazel eyes flicked between Dean and Mary, but the young man remained silent, grabbing the bottle of whiskey which was on the desk. He brought it to his lips and started gulping down long sips, closing his eyes against the intense burn in his throat. Dean's face darkened and his eyes narrowed, as he beheld that move. Sam never did that. Once Sam placed the bottle down, he took in a few ragged breaths and spoke, voice small, hoarse and rough from the burning liquor.

* * *

 

 

“Crowley must have sold us out.” He spat and Dean felt his heart stumbling on itself. “Why is that?” Mary questioned, eyeing the bottle in Sam's hand. Sam let his gaze find the bottle as well, and he spoke again. “Sorry mom, I should have poured the drink in a glass.” He uttered, avoiding to elaborate on Mary's previous question. “Sam, tell me what you meant-” “Is this yours, Dean?” Sam asked, pointing at the glass Lucifer had placed there. No. No, no, no, no, no,no... Dean tried, he really did, two letters, one God dammed word and he couldn't speak of it! “Dean? The glass, is it yours?” Sam asked again. No. “Yes...” Dean said, against his will and could only watch as Sam poured the brown liquor in the fine glass and then got it in between his hands.

* * *

 

 

“What I meant, mom... Is that the Brits told me something before they were all blown to pieces. They told me that...” Here Sam inhaled deeply and glanced at Dean, while bringing the brim of the glass only inches from his lips. “They told me, and showed me... That Lucifer is not in Hell, but roams the states instead, in search of Kelly and her son.” Sam managed to utter and Mary couldn't deny the fact that her younger son seemed to be putting a lot of effort in order to sound calm. Dean grabbed Sam's wrist abruptly, making him jump and move the glass away from his lips. “Sam- Sammy...” His voice got caught in his throat, and his hand started to shake. Sam met his brother's gaze again but then let his shoulders drop, in a gesture of pure resignation.

* * *

 

 

Sam turned his hand so that he could touch the inner part of Dean's wrist before withdrawing his palm away. “Seems like you'll be meeting the Devil mom.” Sam offered weakly, letting his gaze linger on his mother as he brought the brim of the glass to his lips and took a small sip. But he never swallowed that one sip, to the contrary, he spat it out forcibly, grabbing the desk with his free hand, while dropping the glass he was holding a few inches away. “Sam? Sam, what's wrong-” Mary's question went unheard however, as it was covered by the sound of glass being shattered to pieces, and by the sound of Sam's deep, uneven inhales.

* * *

 

 

Mary darted her head on the floor and saw that the glass Sam had been holding, was now in shards and that her son was grabbing the desk with both hands, holding it so hard that his knuckles were white. “Sam, what is it-” But Sam's eyes were fixed on Dean as he was trying to control his erratic breathing. His hand seemed to move on its own accord, and it grabbed the bottle of Whiskey, throwing it towards the center of the room. This time, the glass was thick and the rattle as it hit the floor, was deafening. A rather large pool of dark, brown liquor, was created in a matter of mere minutes, as the whiskey was spilled out and ran freely on the floor, surrounding the shards of glass.

* * *

 

 

 

Sam seemed lost in some kind of dream, but Dean knew he was trapped in his own mind, as flashbacks of his time in the Cage were passing before his eyes. Knifes, hooks, chains. Blood, gore, pain, screaming. Fire, ash, ice. Darkness... Shame, humiliation. _**Bitch. Whore. Tainted.**_ Darkness... Sam's frame shuddered and convulsed, and his fingers tightened their hold on the desk. Bile rose in his chest. A hand touched his shoulder, making Sam jolt and reopen his eyes. But it was pointless, for he knew what he would see. Darkness... Fiery cracks on the walls, bloodied tools and heavy chains all around. Death, for that Cage was a place where no living thing could bloom. It was the final frontier, the coldest circle of Hell. Lucifer's domain, and bellow it, lay the abyss, the cold, dark, Empty.

* * *

 

 

And yet, his eyes were met with none of the above. They were met with two shiny emerald green orbs, bright and filled with life. Green, the color of the leaves, the color of the grass, the color of hope. Sam remained still for a few heartbeats, eyes glued to the ones of his brother, who had gripped Sam's shoulder with his right hand. Sam was sure Dean was saying his name, but all he could do, was blink. Dean... With the thought of his brother being the only one in his mind, Sam breathed in and out, regaining his composure, obliging his mind to keep working. He got on his feet and without turning around, he spoke, voice low, yet rather steady.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“What are you doing here, Lucifer?” Mary's eyes widened in question. “How can you tell it's him?” Mary uttered, but Sam ignored her for the sake of keeping his gaze on Dean. Footsteps were then heard on the cold floor, and both Mary as well as Dean, turned their eyes on the Devil, watching as the lights of the bunker fell on him, casting large, peculiar shadows on the nearby walls. Lucifer smiled and started clapping, slowly, threateningly. “I can see that you can still remember the taste of my lips, dear Sammy...” Lucifer pointed out, marching towards the middle of the room, stopping when his feet were met with the shards of glass which were lying spent on the floor.

* * *

 

 

 

Mary stopped dead in her tracks, her face paling visibly, whilst Dean tried to get up, but had no success in doing so. His green eyes, saw Sam's hazel ones falling closed and witnessed as a lone teardrop, marked his right cheek. With slow movements Sam turned his face away from his brother and dared to meet the Devil's gaze. For a few seconds no one uttered a word and Mary could hear her inhales and exhales as she breathed. And then, Sam spoke, voice still low. “Don't call me _**Sammy**_ , you son of a bitch.” Sam demanded, locking his hazel eyes with Lucifer's red ones...

* * *

 

_ **End of chapter 5..** _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends!! I hope you liked it!! If you want, please tell me what you thought of it!! :-)  
> Until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	6. Of Fire and Ice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are!! I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter, because I can assure you, I have never enjoyed writing something as much as I did enjoy this chapter...  
> I was listening to the OST's of Game Of Thrones and the chapter wrote itself. :-)
> 
> Special thanks to my beta-reader "Geekyfangirl131" for her help with this chapter!!
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to Bro_Fan_For_Life for the awesome reviews!!
> 
> Next chapter won't be as long as this one, this one got slightly out of hand. :-)
> 
> WARNINGS: Mentions of broken Bones, of burning flesh and of torture. Because Sam is not the only one who was tortured in Hell...
> 
> Tittle inspired from the poem "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost.  
> Enjoy!!

> _**"Some say the world will end in fire,** _
> 
> _**Some say in ice.** _
> 
> _**From what I’ve tasted of desire** _
> 
> _**I hold with those who favor fire.** _
> 
> _**But if it had to perish twice,** _
> 
> _**I think I know enough of hate** _
> 
> _**To say that for destruction ice** _
> 
> _**Is also great** _
> 
> _**And would suffice."** _
> 
> _**Fire and Ice.** _
> 
> _**Robert Frost.** _

****

_**Chapter 6: "Of Fire and Ice..."** _

 

 

_**NOW...** _

 

Lucifer had broken many of Sam's bones after he had trapped both of the young man's legs in large pieces of ice. He had used Dean's bat and had crushed Sam's ankle, his left knee cap, as well as, his right tibia. The sounds were haunting and foreign, but even worst were Sam's screams... Lucifer had partly healed Sam, enough that the young hunter had regained consciousness and could feel the pain Lucifer was inflicting on him. And by God, Sam could feel every last bit of it. His inhuman screams, which were echoing throughout the bunker, were the proof. So filled with anguish those screams were, so filled with pain, so desperate, so very helpless...

* * *

 

 

 

Dean was sure he would go insane by that sound alone. It was ripping his insides apart, it was killing him. And try as he might, he could not break free from Lucifer's bonds. And by God, he tried to. He started to thrust and he tried to move, to stop Lucifer, but all he achieved, was to make the muscles of his injured leg snap and eventually go numb, which resulted in him falling down on the floor with a thud. The thin layer of ice still lingered on the floor, and so Dean felt the blood freezing in his veins.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Lucifer stepped away from Sam as he heard Dean hitting the floor. His shirt was stained with sweat and he was gasping for breath, as if he had just ran a two-miles race. “Need a hand, dear Dean?” He asked, smiling down at the hunter, offering his free hand. In the other, he held Dean's bat, waving it back and forth like a mace. “Stop it, just stop it, you sick son of a bitch! Haven't you had enough?” Dean tried to will his voice to sound threatening, but it ended up sounding anything but. “You know...” Lucifer rasped, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “When you ask something, you should do so politely, not like some kind of savage.” He stated, eyes fixed on Dean.

* * *

 

 

 

“Go fuck yourself.” Was all Dean replied. “In a little while, I sure will.” Came the answer from the Devil. Dean fought against the layer of ice and finally managed to get to his knees. “Dean, Dean, Dean... You should really work on your manners.” Lucifer pointed out and his eyes fell on Sam's trembling figure. “But maybe you're right... I think we need to warm the place up a little, wouldn't you agree?” He continued, turning his glowing eyes back on Dean. “Maybe break the ice between us...” He smirked, but Dean growled back at him. “Oh, I forgot, no sense of humor...” Lucifer snapped, pressing a hand on his eyes.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Anyhow, I think we should get warmed up...” Lucifer repeated, as he walked away from Dean, and towards one of the nearby desks. He placed the, now bloodied bat, on the desk and exhaled soundly. “So, come on baby...” The Devil said, eyeing Sam. His comment made Dean's stomach flip, and he fought to get back on his feet. “Come on baby, light my fire...” Lucifer hummed, and with a snap of his fingers, small flames appeared on the top of each of his fingertips, lighting up his darkened face.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Fire was something Dean had come to hate from a very young age. It was the element which had forged his life into one endless crusade and had altered his fate to the point where his decisions seemingly had no meaning whatsoever. Dean hated fire. He hated the smell of smoke, and the fact it could creep into the fibers of his clothes, he hated the way it made his throat dry and numb, he hated that it could make his eyes water. He despised the heat and the blazing red color. He hated fire with every fiber of his being, and from what he could tell, he would soon have one more reason to add to his list.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“What are you doing?” Dean managed to ask, knitting his eyebrows together. But all Lucifer did, was to bring his inflamed hand close to his mouth, breathing out a long breath, which seemed to power up the flames, creating one small fireball, which could fit in Lucifer's grasp. Dean could only watch, as the Devil blew out a second, then a third breath, making the fireball larger with every new exhalation. When it had become large enough, Lucifer smiled and cried out triumphantly! “Now let's see what the true King of Hell is capable of, when he conjures real hell-fire!” With those words, Lucifer stretched his hand, moving it from left to right, unleashing an immense amount of energy along with the flames.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Dean's eyes shone brightly as the glowing red flames were spread. To him it seemed, as though the thin layer of ice and snow which was coating the floor, was their gasoline, for they seemed to emerge from it, like the first green flowers do after the winter has passed. The hellish flames created an orb around the three men, but Dean could tell that the axis of the orb was the spot where Lucifer was standing, a few feet away from Sam. It was a sight beyond any other Dean had ever seen. The flames started rising higher as Lucifer began to laugh maniacally, hellish blazing tongues, which were creating a fiery canopy above Dean's head, hiding the ceiling from view with every passing second.

* * *

 

 

The thin layer of ice, which Lucifer had previously forged, was no longer giving power to the flames, on the contrary, it was melting swiftly, like Dean thought it would. The pool of whiskey was now not only liquefied, but whiskey, filled with alcohol as it was, started to evaporate rapidly. Dean felt his heart beating faster with every passing second and his breathing was becoming shallow and ragged. Yet, there seemed to be no smell of smoke in the air, albeit it was dry, due to the extreme heat. Which meant that the flames were not there to burn the place down. They were there, to burn Sam...

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean blinked, daring to look at the floor, which was now a huge mirror, due to the ice which had become water. Only then did Dean understand, that Hell was indeed Lucifer's kingdom. The flames were reflected a thousand times bigger in the water, lethal, blazing whips, which threatened to capture Dean's shaky legs like vines. It felt as if the earth had caved in, revealing endless hellish pits, which spewed menacing flames. Dean let out a gasp, but Sam's scream, coming from the depths of his throat, made him freeze and drag his eyes on his brother's figure.

* * *

 

 

 

The sight was heartbreaking, Dean was sure of it. The ice, which was keeping Sam's legs immobilized had mostly melted away, and thus Sam could now feel the pain of his broken bones spreading inside him with such speed and intensity, that the hunter was sure his heart would give out from the pain. “Hurts, doesn't it?” Lucifer yelled and began moving within the circle as if he was dancing. The flames had now reached Sam's chains, and as the burning flames came in touch with the metal, two things happened simultaneously, for the first time.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Dean saw the metal becoming red and as a result, the flesh of Sam's wrists started to stink, as the hot metal started melting the skin and the muscles beneath. It was in that moment, that Dean did something he had never done before. He turned his face away from the repulsing sight. And as Dean turned his gaze away, Sam screamed, but for the very first time ever since Lucifer had entered the bunker, his scream was actually a word... And so it was written and done, reflected in that watery mirror, which had formed on the floor.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Written, that Dean had turned away from his brother, robbing him of, of the last thing he had left to give him courage. Robbing Sam from the chance to meet his emerald gaze. And at the same time, a howl emerged from Sam's throat. Yet, it wasn't a cry for mercy, no, it was a cry for help... “DEAN! DEAN!” The green eyed man was sure that his soul was burning along with Sam's flesh... And as Sam screamed again, for Dean to help him, to save him, Lucifer started laughing anew, his laughter cold and triumphant. With a movement of his hand, the flames engulfed Sam's entire frame, swallowing him whole.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Tell me Sam, is he worth it? Tell me, you fucking worthless bitch, is Dean worth this?” Lucifer screamed in between bursts of laughter... And all Dean could do was turn away, and let his tears fall, teardrops hotter than the surrounding flames, falling in the water which covered the floor... Oh, what an irony, his tears were seemingly falling right on the top of the flames, as they were reflected in the water... And Dean was sure, that if he was allowed to let all the tears he was holding inside him fall, they were enough to put those flames out...

* * *

 

 

 

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

 

“Don't call me _**Sammy**_ , you son of a bitch!” Sam croaked, locking his eyes with the Devil. “Oh, but we were roommates for so long!” Lucifer offered, pretending to be offended. “We were nothing!” Sam snapped, glaring daggers at the Fallen Angel. “You sure about that, Sam? 'Cause from what I can tell, you were my bitch... In every sense of the word.” Lucifer muttered, turning his gaze to Mary, who had paled even more, as her mind could easily understand what the Devil really meant.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Sam flinched at the sound of those words, but fought against the panic which was threatening to take over him. “I don't give a damn about what you think that I am. I don't know how you got in here in the first place, but get the Hell out!” Demanded the younger man, voice hoarse, but steady nonetheless. “Get out? Oh, but I don't think so, Sam... As for how I got in here, ask your brother. It's his fault.” Lucifer announced, pointing at Dean, who was still sitting on that chair, but was unable to utter a word. Sam turned his gaze on Dean, questioning him what the Devil meant. Dean however, could only look at him.

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean? Dean, what has he done to you?” Sam spat, unclenching his fingers, so that he could touch his brother. Lucifer waved his hand and Dean felt his tongue obeying his wishes again. “Sam...” Dean uttered, as he watched his brother kneeling between his legs, getting his pale face in his hands in a vice like grip. “Dean, are you hurt?” Sam asked, making Mary raise an eyebrow. But no words were uttered, for Lucifer moved even closer to the brothers. Swiftly, silently, like a predator who lingers in the shadows, eyes burning red, promising death.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Dean, talk to me!” Sam demanded, but Dean lowered his gaze in shame. How was he supposed to tell Sam that it was indeed his fault Lucifer was here? Sam let his hands fall from Dean's face then and moved them downwards, touching Dean's muscled chest. He allowed his long fingers to linger on the spot right above his brother's heart. “Sam... What are you doing?” Mary asked, staring flabbergasted at her son. “Dean, look at me.” It was a plea, but Dean felt unable to deny his brother's request. Green orbs met hazel ones and only then did Dean spoke.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Sammy, I... I forgot to power the wordings back up.” Dean uttered, ignoring his mother, knowing that there was no going back now. She would have to learn about what he and Sam were sharing. “It's my fault he got in, and I tried to cast him out, I did try...” His voice fainted, and Dean expected Sam to start ranting, but his brother stayed still. “Sammy, I'm sorry, so sorry, I never meant-” But Sam placed his long fingers on Dean's dry lips, shushing him. “It's not your fault, Dean. Whatever happens, I need you to know that.” Sam explained softly, fingers still on Dean's lips.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

“See, I told you, he's smart... He knows what is going to happen...” Lucifer announced, but Sam cut him off. “Whatever you want of me, the answer is no.” Sam declared, staying close to Dean. “Oh?” Lucifer hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?” “I told you before. I am ready to die, I am ready-” But Lucifer cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I know... I know what's on your mind Sam... I've been in it... I've taken it apart, time, and time again... So, how about a rerun of that epic speech?” Lucifer said, watching as Sam made the fatal mistake to get on his feet again. “It's better for mama Mary as well. She'll get to see what happened!” Lucifer said happily, crossing the room in three large steps, grabbing Sam by the collar of his shirt.

* * *

 

 

 

“Sammy!” Dean yelled, as he watched Lucifer pulling Sam away from him and then throwing him on the opposite wall. “What's he doing?” Mary rasped as Lucifer's hand disappeared into Sam's body. “No, Sam! Sammy!!!” Dean yelled again, all the while he tried to move and get up. Sam's hoarse scream echoed loud and clear, but before anyone could blink, the surroundings disappeared, giving way to the dark and cold walls of Lucifer's Cage. Mary gasped, her heart filling with fear. “How is he doing this?” She muttered as she looked around. “He's touching Sam's soul... Forcing his memories to resurface, so that he can then project them to us somehow.” Dean replied, eyeing around the dark room.

* * *

 

 

 

“Then, why is everything so dark, shouldn't we be watching Sam's memories?” Mary dared to ask, as she started thrusting against Lucifer's invisible bonds. Dean however, did not answer at once, for his mind was filled with images of his own time in Hell. Alistair, and his famous toolbox, a suitcase of sorts, which hosted all his weapons... Dean could remember the cold, the darkness, the smell of fresh blood and of burned flesh, the sound of chains being pulled, of bones breaking, of skin being carved... Dean knew every tool in that case, Alistair had used them all on him... And then, that day when Dean had stopped fighting and he had taken the deal, he got to use them on others... The day, he had stopped fighting. The day, he had stained his soul with innocent blood, deeming it unworthy to ever, be saved...

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean? Dean!” Mary called, making the green eyed hunter blink, bringing him back on the present. “We can't see anything because...” Dean paused again, swallowing hard. “Because Sam is fighting Lucifer...” Dean finally uttered, his voice low, yet sure. “He resists, like he has always done...” Dean continued, and Mary gasped anew. All of a sudden however, a shriek emerged from Sam's throat, making Dean's eyes widen and water. “Sam!” He yelled, but his cries died in his throat, as two figures appeared in the middle of the Cage, standing, facing one another. They were no other, but Sam and Lucifer.

* * *

 

 

 

 

The two were standing, in the middle of the room and Dean could tell that the Sam he was seeing, was the one who had talked to Lucifer about Amara. “So, the Sam and Lucifer we see standing before us...” Mary uttered in a low voice, “...they are not real?” “No, no mom... It's one of Sam's memories...” Dean explained, but Lucifer's voice cut him off. “I can beat her, Sam. I can beat the Darkness.” “No. Your game is done, it's over. So, no.” Sam spat, and Dean felt so proud of his brother. “This is me, having faith in my friends, having faith in my family. We will find another way.” Sam said, eyes on the Devil.

* * *

 

 

Swallowing hard, Sam spoke again. “I am ready to die. I am ready to watch people I love, die. But I'm not ready to be your bitch.” Lucifer's face twitched visibly, and he laughed ironically. “Right...” The Devil spat, but before Dean and Mary could see what had happened next, the memory faded away, as everything started dissolving into thick, black smoke. The bunker was once again illuminated and the surrounding walls were in place. Dean turned his gaze on the wall and saw Lucifer withdrawing his hand from Sam's body, making the young man fall to his knees, as his legs could not hold him upright.

* * *

 

 

 

“Did you enjoy the show, mama?” Lucifer asked, eyeing Mary. “Is this what you want? To peel off my son's mind so that I can see all the things I don't know about?” Mary rasped, voice wavering as she watched Sam getting back on his feet, his back leaning heavily against the wall. “Well, that's a very, very good idea...” Lucifer said, the fingers of his right hand caressing his chin. “I could show you so many things...” The Devil stated, and Sam felt completely useless to prevent any of those things from happening.

* * *

 

 

 

“I could show you that time when Sam kicked Dean out of the house so that he wouldn't see how drunk his daddy was... John got out of control and beat the crap out of Sam, and he again lied to Dean, accusing some kids from school... It was an one-time thing, but still... Or, that time when Sam saved a Kitsune from being killed... Or, I could show you the night Sam beat the hell out of a guy because he had seen him giving money to Dean to receive a blow-job in return. It was a rainy winter's night, wasn't it, Sam?” Lucifer pointed out, but the young man could only lower his head in shame. “Oh, there's that time when Sam walked out on Dean to go to Stanford...” Here, Lucifer paused, eyeing both Dean and Mary.

* * *

 

 

“What's wrong Dean? You didn't know of those things either?” Lucifer said with a smirk. Dean's expression was one of horror and disbelief. It was all the answer the Devil needed. “See, I told you, I know everything you were, Sam...” Lucifer continued, as he started walking towards Dean and Mary. With a wave of his hand, he threw them off the chairs and on the cold floor. “Everything you are...” He continued, as he reached the pool of whiskey which lay on the floor. He glanced down at the shards of glass, and saw his own red eyes staring back at him. He avoided stepping on the spilled drink and moved even closer to Mary, who was curled on the floor. With yet another wave of his hand he elevated Dean, until the hunter was floating a few inches above the ground.

* * *

 

 

 

“Everything that you will ever be...” Lucifer muttered, turning his head to his right, to catch a glimpse of Sam, who was still shaking like a leaf. With those words, Lucifer grabbed Dean by the throat with one hand, while he stepped on Mary's diaphragm with his right foot. “Stop it!” Sam cried out, but his cries only made the Devil tighten his hold around Dean's neck. “And that's why I know for sure... That you will never stand by and watch them die...” The fallen angel rasped, savoring the feeling of limitless power running through his veins. “I mean, it sure is a cliché, and I am tired of pulling the same threat every time, but it's a classic, so I can't really say no to that!” Lucifer continued, voice filled with irony.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“I told you we weren't over, Sam...” Lucifer spoke, voice loud, so as to cover Dean's and Mary's uneven gasps. “So, here we are, with me powered up even more by touching your soul.” He continued, stepping on Mary's throat even more, making her writhe. “Here we are... And I ask you, dear, oh dear _**Sammy...**_ ” Lucifer questioned, underlining the word 'Sammy'. “Are you finally ready to kneel before me? Are you ready to be my bitch?” The Devil asked, turning to look at Sam, who was leaning heavily against the wall, and could only watch, as Lucifer stood straight, lifting Dean above the ground with one hand around his throat, while stepping on Mary, who was pinned to the floor.

* * *

 

 

“So, tell me _**Sammy;**_ Oh, I was sure I would eventually be allowed to use that nickname...” Lucifer pointed out, tightening his hold around Dean's throat, making him unable to breathe. “Tell me, which one is going to be? Will you let them die, or will you kneel?” Lucifer spat and Sam let his eyes flutter closed...

* * *

 

 

_ **End of chapter 6** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was it!! Loved it? Hated it? I would love to hear your thoughts!! You keep me going!!  
> Oh, and because you ask, no, this is NOT a death fic. No Deaths!!  
> So, until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	7. Live on your knees, or die on your feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!!!! I finished my exam period today, and I think I have done well!! So, I finished the chapter and here it is!! But I have no idea if you have enjoyed the last chapter, but I hope that you did!! :-)   
> So, I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter as well!!
> 
> No special warning for this chapter, there is no torture this time. Only wincest!!
> 
> Special thanks to my beta-reader ''Geekyfangirl131" for her help with this chapter!!

_ **Chapter 7** _

 

 

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

 

“So, tell me _**Sammy;**_ Oh, I was sure I would eventually be allowed to use that nickname...” Lucifer pointed out, tightening his hold around Dean's throat, making it unable to breathe. “Tell me, which one is going to be? Will you let them die, or will you kneel?” Lucifer spat and Sam let his eyes flutter closed...

 

* * *

 

 

“Forgive me... Dean, forgive me...” Sam whispered, as he reopened his eyes, which were filled with tears. He then began to bend his knees, only to freeze in place as Dean spoke. “No, don't-” Dean managed to spat, words almost inaudible, for they were spoken with no pause for breath. “You promised, you swore-” Dean rasped, and Lucifer raised an eyebrow, as he relaxed his hold around Dean's throat. “What are you mumbling about? He swore nothing.” Lucifer croaked, eyes narrowing. “I would have seen it. “There are a few things, counted on the fingers of one hand, that you haven't seen.” Sam explained, as he stepped away from the wall and took a couple of wobbly steps towards the Devil.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Now, I'm willing to show them to you, if you let them go.” Sam offered, but then paused, lowering his gaze. “I have seen everything-” “No.” Was all Sam replied. “Despite the endless torture, the fire, the ash, the ice, the chains, the hooks and the knives... Despite the fact that you molded my own soul... There are some things I hid from you.” Sam admitted, in a truthful voice. “There were other things which happened after I beat the hell out of that guy you spoke of. There is more to the story of why I walked out on Dean...” Sam breathed in and out then, in an attempt to calm himself down.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Let them go, and I will show you all you wish to see.” Sam offered again, but Lucifer declined. “You think you can play little lawyer, don't you?” Lucifer growled, voice deep. His eyes shone as he realized something he deep down knew, yet he would never speak of. He had not broken Sam completely when the young hunter was in the Cage.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Well, let me make something clear... Dear _**Sammy**_...” He continued, stepping away from Mary's body, and towards Sam, who was not fast enough so as to move away in time. “You are in no position to be negotiating!” The Devil yelled, and his loud cry, covered Mary's sharp and pained inhales. In less than a blink of an eye, Lucifer pushed his free hand within Sam's chest yet again, extracting one more hoarse scream from Sam, who was unable to conceal his memories from his tormentor.

 

* * *

 

 

And this time, Lucifer dug deep, so deep that Sam was certain he would drop dead from the pain. The surrounding scenery changed again and Mary, who had managed to get on her knees could only watch, as Sam's memories unfolded, quite literally, right before her eyes. She couldn't help but notice, that the Sam and Dean she was seeing, were in Dean's room, Sam lying on the bed, Dean on his knees beside him, changing the bandages of an ugly gunshot wound in his brother's abdomen. They were looking almost the same as the ones Mary had come to know, thus she concluded that this memory was a recent one.

* * *

 

 

 

The woman let her eyes linger first on Dean, whose hands were holding clear bandages and then on Sam, who had locked his jaw in place, so as to stop any sounds of discomfort from escaping his lips. They seemed uneasy, and no words were spoken for a long time. “Sam, look man, I know you're pissed at me, but we need to start talking to each other-” “Just clean the wound and I'm out of here Dean.” Sam replied, his tone sharp.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean exhaled tiredly, but continued his work in silence, eyes hazed, shoulders hunched, face darkened. When he was done, Sam tried to get up and away from the bed, only to groan in pain as he moved. “Wow, wow, wow, easy, let me help-” “I don't need your help! I don't need you to do anything, you've done enough!” Sam rasped, but Mary could tell there was bitterness in his words. “Sam... What do you want to hear? That I'm sorry? Well, I'm not.” “Right, why would you be sorry? You just took a bunch of pills and committed suicide so that Billie would come to reap you and you could ask her-” “To take me instead of you. Yeah, not so great plan. But I am not sorry and you know it.” Dean rasped, grabbing Sam by the shoulders.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I wasn't dead-” “You were dead for me Sam!” Dean yelled, but a sob made him lower and then shake his head in denial. “I left you there, with Corbin... And when I came back, you were dead. I left you there, I left and-” Yet another sob emerged from Dean's throat and the green eyed man took a minute to regain his composure. “I did what I had to do. I had to save you. And no, I'm not sorry.” Dean finally uttered, words spoken softly, yet in a sure tone. He then withdrew, offering his hand to Sam, who was staring anywhere else, but Dean. “I'll help you get in your room, if you want.” He mumbled quietly. “Lay down, Dean.” Sam whispered after a few seconds of utter silence, and the older man could not deny him.   
  
  


* * *

  
  


Dean sat on his bed, bent down to remove his shoes and then lay on his side, facing his brother. “Sam-” “You didn't even think of what could have happened if you were to die and was to live-” “Sammy, please-” “And then you lied to me-” “I couldn't bring myself to tell you...” Dean's voice fainted. Sam opened his mouth to let out yet another argument, but that was when Dean lost it. “I can't do it Sam, sue me! I can't let you die, I can't live with you dead.” “Well, I can't go on without you either!” Sam yelled, pinning Dean on the mattress in less than a blink of an eye. Dean knew he could break free of Sam's hold, albeit his brother was taller than him. He chose not to struggle however, in fear of hurting Sam's wound. So, he fixed his eyes on hazel ones, and gasped as he saw Sam hovering over him.

 

* * *

 

 

Silence coated the room then, and Mary could only watch, as her sons seemed to have lost themselves in each other's eyes. “I can't... I could never, never Dean...” Sam rasped, voice hoarse, as round drops of tears started falling from his hazel orbs. Dean took in a sharp inhale as his eyes beheld the sight of his brother breaking down. The older man tried to speak, Mary saw him opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, but no words left his lips. “Lucifer is out there Dean, and if you're gone, then I...” Sam trailed off, voice wavering.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The fear in those words made Mary shiver and Dean snap out of his stillness. The older hunter moved his hands, cupping both sides of Sam's face, brushing away the hot tears which soon met his fingertips. “I would never let him-” “You could have died, so who would be here to stop him?” “You were dead Sam!” Dean shot back, hands tightening their hold on each side of Sam's face. Dean swallowed hard, understanding that they had reached yet another dead end. There was never going to be a way out of this situation, they both knew it.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“So, where do we stand?” Sam eventually asked, voice low, hoarse. Dean locked his eyes with Sam's for a long moment and his mind seemed lost in deep thought. Then, all of a sudden, he seemed to have made a decision, and abruptly turned to his side, grabbing a knife from under the pillow. “What are you doing?” Sam uttered, making Dean pause his movements for just a second. But after that, his eyes held no sign of hesitation.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“We make a deal. We take a vow, bound in blood.” He said and in one swift move, he cut his left palm, letting hot, red blood ran down freely. “What the Hell Dean-” “I won't die to save you, I won't make any more deals to bring you back from the dead. But you won't either. It's a two-way vow. You won't make a deal, not even if Lucifer asks you to. And that's because we...” Dean's voice fainted away into nothing, but the meaning of his words, both of those he had managed to utter as well of those he could never bring himself to speak aloud, was hanging heavy above their heads.

* * *

 

 

There, in the darkness of the walls those words were creeping. Sam's eyes widened in realization. We live together. We live for one another. There is no me if there is no you... Mary's eyes flew open and she spoke the words aloud...”We live and die together...” She muttered in a raspy voice.

* * *

 

 

With an elegant move of his hand, the young hunter let the fingers of his right hand find Dean's grasp, and he took the knife from him. He tore his own palm open, flinching at the feeling of blood on his skin. “I swear...” He said, voice low, soft, lips only away from Dean's. “I swear...” Dean uttered, lacing his fingers with Sam's allowing the blood to be mixed. “On this...” Sam continued, tilting his head to the side just a little, so as to capture Dean's lips with his own. The kiss was slow, yet desperate, and as their lips met, everything else faded away. There was no need for breath, no need for words and promises. No, that kiss was shielding a vow and thus was sacred, so intimate, so very powerful, filled with fear, longing, love and passion...

 

* * *

 

 

 

Mary could not speak, couldn't even blink the tears back. She could only stare bewildered, with eyes big and wide, as the two men kept kissing and Dean grabbed fistfuls of Sam's hair, raking his fingers through brown locks. “Sammy...” He breathed, low and hushed, promising and demanding all together. Sam let his hands find the broad plane of his brother's chest and hid his face in the crook of his neck, kissing, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin. Dean took in a deep breath, letting his brother's scent fill his lungs. Mary could understand that Sam as still crying, she could see his shoulders were shaking, but Dean remained silent, as he kept stroking his brother's hair.

 

* * *

 

 

“I would have done the same, Dean.” Sam uttered, words muffled by the skin of Dean's neck. “I know, Sammy.” Mary could tell that there was a point in Dean's life where he wasn't sure if Sam would have uttered those words. “But an oath like the one we took can not be broken...” Dean stated and then moved his hands, cupping Sam's face yet again, and one could tell that he did so with the gentlest of touches, a touch he rarely used. Their lips met again, only this time the kiss was fierce, lustful, sinful... “You're lying...” Mary muttered under her breath, not knowing to whom she was addressing this statement. but her words died in her throat soon after.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sammy...” Dean pleaded, a plea broken and low, which was met by Sam's immediate response. “I'm here, Dean, I'm here...” He whispered, allowing his brother to manhandle him, so that he was lying with his back on the mattress and Dean was now above him. Trained hands traveled down the well known paths of Sam's body, and finally lingered on that gun-shot wound, making Sam shiver at the touch. Green eyes met hazel ones, and Dean cleared his throat. “Let me... God, let me just--” Words faded away as a shudder worked its way down Dean's spine, making his hands tremble. “Whatever you want; whatever you need Dean...” Sam breathed, attacking his brother's mouth again.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Sammy, easy baby boy, let me do the work, don't push yourself-” “Dean, you're not the only one who wants to be sure that...” Sam's low voice trailed off, and the hunter averted his gaze from Dean's, lying back on the pillows. “I know Sammy, I know...” Dean muttered, carefully peeling Sam of his night t-shirt. “But let me do the work, alright? Lay back, take it easy, please, please...” He pleaded, leaving so many things unsaid. Yet Sam could understand what his brother could not bear to speak of. He didn't need the words served on a plate before him. But for better or worse, neither did Mary... “Okay, alright. Dean, I'm alright. It's alright...” The younger man promised, letting out a long breath when Dean let his lips trail a wet path down the length of his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Dean...” Sam breathed again, as the older man let his right hand travel down until it found a very alive, pumping member waiting. “Dean...” Sam echoed, only to place a hand over his mouth. Swift, callused fingers of Dean's free hand took a hold of Sam's wrist however, pushing it aside. “Say my name, say it Sammy...” Dean pleaded, as his right hand slipped inside Sam's pants, without bothering lowering them down. Dean started stroking his brother's throbbing member, and Mary averted her gaze, even though the dim illumination the room provided, as well as Dean's fully clothed body, already hid Sam from her line of sight. Sam stilled for a second, but then laced his fingers with the ones of Dean's extended hand as best as he could.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

“Dean, God-- I...” “I can't Sammy, I can't lose you, I...” Dean's voice faded away, as he gave one more stroke. Sam shuddered yet again, and held Dean closer, kissing his knuckles one by one. The moans, the pleadings and the whispered words, spoken with shallow breaths which surrounded Mary started to fade away however, as the scenery started drifting away and everything dissolved into thick black smoke, like they had done the last time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The surroundings once again became visible and Mary caught a glimpse of Sam as he once again collapsed on the floor, right before Lucifer's feet. The fallen angel started backtracking, but he never released Dean from his vicious hold. “I think I'm going to vomit...” Lucifer's voice was low, but snob. “You took a page right out of Mexican soap operas...” He continued, turning his gaze on Sam. “So weak... You are unworthy to be called a hunter, Sam. You're shallow and empty. You can't love anyone anymore, can you?” Lucifer asked, his tone now sharp.

* * *

 

 

“Only Dean... The only thing that matters is this piece of garbage... The way you cling to him... And to think you once wanted to be normal, independent... Oh how the mighty have fallen...” Lucifer continued. “He cares about others.” The Devil spat, shaking Dean's barely conscious body. “He sure cares about your angel slash dog, Castiel. He cares deeply about many people. He needs other people in his life, he bonds with other people. But you... You don't even care about your own mother.” “That's a lie!” Sam snapped.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“No, it's the truth. You don't love her Sam, not as your mother, not even as a friend. You wouldn't grieve for her death! You don't know her! How can you feel love, pain, sorrow or sadness, when you don't know someone?” “Oh, and you have known sorrow and grief-” “Yes, Sam... I have come to know them... And that's why I assure you, that your feelings for this woman, are shallow. Taking her as a hostage is useless. You sure will be sad if I were to kill her, but as long as I have a hold on him...” Lucifer boasted, turning his gaze on Dean. “... I can ask whatever I want of you, _**bitch...**_ ” Sam could only lower his head in shame.

 

* * *

 

 

 

There was nothing he could answer, for deep down, he knew that his adversary was right. A choking sound pulled him out of his thoughts and made him raise his head, only for his eyes to see Dean gasping for air as Lucifer released the hold he had on his throat, only to throw him against the nearby wall. “And stop whining about my choice of words. You really are a bitch...” The Devil mocked, eyeing Dean. “You crave for him, so why deny what you are? You're a tainted freak, broken and beaten, shattered in pieces no one can gather, who lets his brother fuck the shit out of him.” Lucifer declared. Sam felt bile rising in his throat and covered his mouth with his palm.

 

* * *

 

 

“I never 'fucked' him, you bastard. “Oh, I get what you're trying to do here Dean. You want to lie so that mama Mary won't hate you. But I think that after what she saw, she can draw out her own conclusions.” Lucifer said, eyes flicking between Dean, who was pinned on the wall, and Mary, who was pale as a ghost. “I never fucked him.” Dean stated again, albeit in a lower voice. “See, _**Sammy**_ , big brother is betraying you and who can blame him- “I never 'fucked him'.” Dean said for a third time. “I heard you Dean-” “That was what your specialty.” Dean spat, cutting the Devil off. “I have made love to him, with him. Because _**I**_ wanted to. Because _**he wanted**_ to.” Dean's voice was sure and his eyes trailed to his mother, who was on her knees.

* * *

 

 

 

“You can't be serious Dean. What I saw, was a lie Lucifer conjured...” Mary rasped, voice nothing more than a low, hoarse mumble. “It's not a lie.” Dean said, knowing he was risking everything. You have no right to judge, neither me, nor my brother. Amara brought you back, and frankly, I thought she did that, so that we can meet you. So that we can live together, like a family. But the real reason, was so that you could be redeemed, forgiven for the sins which are yours, yet have all fallen on our shoulders.” Dean said, leaving no room for an argument.

* * *

 

 

 

Sam could only stare at his brother, stunned. “And I forgave you. Sam, hell, Sammy never blamed you to begin with, I've told you that before. But me and Sam, we are who we are mom. And what we have... It's _**not**_ going away. Not for you. _**Not for anyone.**_ ” Dean continued, voice low. Mary could only wave her head in refusal. “But it's...” “It is what it is, mom. Real. Pure.” Dean offered, locking his gaze with hers. Mary opened her mouth to speak, but Lucifer cut her off.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I am so very sorry to interrupt this great soap opera, but I have a son to raise, so... Back to the point.” Lucifer said, grabbing Dean by the throat yet again. “ _ **Kneel.**_ ” He demanded, eyes on Sam. “ _ **No**_.” Was all Sam answered, and that lone word was followed by a yelp, as Lucifer kicked Dean's injured leg hard. “ _ **Kneel, now**_.” He said again, eyes burning red. “I said, _**no**_.” Sam repeated, voice barely above a whisper. The eerie sound of one's breath getting trapped in his throat was then heard, as Lucifer held Dean's neck with such strength, the older man could no longer breath. “Third time is the last one, bitch. _**Kneel**_.” Sam turned his gaze on Mary and spoke.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I know I'm not the son you were wishing for. I know I am tainted, broken, a freak. And I tried to fight it, I really did. The urge for the ever forbidden, the passion for the man who raised me, who was always there. At first, I thought it was a fancy. So I waited, inwardly torn into pieces. I waited, for the fancy to pass. But as I grew older I understood it would never go away. I blamed others for it. Demon Blood. Azazel, the hunting life, the loneliness, the hardships, the Devil... But it was me. Lucifer is right mom, I can no longer love people. They just end up hating me, or they die.” Here Sam paused, eyeing Dean. The hunter was almost numb.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So, I've shut myself down and I've drown away from all of our remaining friends and allies. But when it comes to Dean... I love him, mom. And I can't break the promise we made that night. Especially now, that you have seen the truth. I wouldn't stand it, if you were to hate Dean because of what we have. So, I think it's better this way. You can go on with your life. After all... We were never nothing more than strangers...” The young hunter turned his face away from his mother, his voice fainting. He felt tears trickling down his face.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Still... For what is worth, mom... I am so glad I met you. Even if you're disappointed at me.” He finally said, before meeting Dean's gaze for just a mere second. Dean gave him the slightest nod, and thus Sam, addressed towards Lucifer, whose eyes were burning. “The answer is _**no**_. I refuse to kneel before you. _**I am not**_ , and _**will never again**_ be, your bitch. Now get done with it. Kill us both, come on.” Sam uttered, voice wavering. Lucifer's face was unreadable for a few moments, and everything was silent. But then, a smile was painted across his face, a very promising smile. A smile which resembled a poker player's, who had just picked up one more ace in his hand...

* * *

 

 

_**The game was not yet over...** _

* * *

**_End of chapter 7..._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends!! Please tell me what you think!!! Next chapter will come up soon!!!  
> Also, while writing, I really like listening to music, mostly soundtracks from movies or series, like Game of Thrones. But I am out of new ''themes'', so I thought I could ask you, if you have any good orchestral music which you enjoy listening to!! I am all ears!!  
> So, until next time,  
> Love you,  
> Usagi!!


	8. A fate worse than Death...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, here is chapter 8!! I hope that you'll enjoy!  
> Special thanks to my great beta-reader '''Geekyfangirl131" for checking the chapter out!  
> Warning: Mention of past torture (Dean's time in Hell) It's nothing graphic, but still, it's there.  
> Off we go!!

**_ Chapter 8:  "A fate worse than Death..." _ **

 

**_ THEN... _ **

 

 

“The answer is **_no_**. I refuse to kneel before you. **_I am not_** , and **_will never again_** be, your bitch. Now get done with it. Kill us both, come on.” Sam uttered, voice wavering. Lucifer's face was unreadable for a few moments, and everything were silent. But then, a smile was painted across his face, a very promising smile. A smile which resembled a poker player's, who had just picked up one more ace in his hand...

 

The game was not yet over... In fact, it had just begun.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_'Dear Sammy_**... In all your cleverness, you're still naive. You haven't learned a thing from our time together, have you? What a shame... You should know, **_Sammy_** , that death, is not the only ace up my sleeve. And there are fates far worse than death, of that, I assure you. It's high time you learn that one can break an opponent by means other than killing him, or what he loves the most... Let's see, will you understand your lesson this time?' Lucifer's lips turned upwards as these thoughts flooded his mind. It was time for the real game to begin.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well... I have to admit that, I never expected this turn of events.” Lucifer said, careful to mask the amusement in his voice. “You still have aces up your sleeve Sam. That's why I've always liked you so much.” The Devil continued, and in a blink of an eye he released Dean from his hold. The green eyed man fell on the floor and started coughing repeatedly, as he gasped for air. Mary's eyes flew open and she got on her feet, rushing towards her first born. “What are you doing?” Sam questioned, watching as Lucifer started walking away from Dean and towards him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

“I admire you, Sam. You still have balls, after all.” Lucifer said, locking his eyes with Sam's. “As for what I am doing, I am rewarding you for your effrontery.” He muttered, moving past Sam, heading towards the dark corner from which he had crawled out of. “Besides...” He rasped, and with a movement of his hand, all three of the Winchesters froze in place. “I told your brother you would come to me willingly and I have to be honest, I didn't give you much of a choice.” “Lucifer just get done with it-” But Mary's raspy call was cut off, as the Devil turned back around, emerging from the shadows for yet another time. Only this time, he was holding something in his hands. “What is this, a suitcase?” Mary asked, irony in her voice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hush, mama Mary, you're distracting me.” The Devil said angrily. Mary fell silent, but turned her gaze on Dean, who gasped in terror. “Do you know what this is, Sam?” Lucifer questioned, eyeing the suitcase. “No.” Was all the young hunter replied. “Do you know who it belonged to?” “Is this some kind of game?” Sam spat, annoyance clear in his voice. “Oh, but no, dear Sam... This is the choice I'm about to give you. You can walk out of here, along with mommy dearest. But Dean stays-” “No-” “He stays, for an hour and a half. He stays here, with me, and this suitcase. Then, you can come back here and collect him. I swear, I won't kill him.” Lucifer explained, eyes fixed on Sam.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Whatever you want, it has to do with me, so he stays out of it-” “You refused me, Sam. Again. You don't want us to go to the prom together, I get it. So, I moved on. And I am giving you a choice here, a good deal. No one will die. You will walk out and so will she-” At that point, Lucifer's gaze fell on Mary. “And eventually, so will Dean.” “You won't touch him-” “No, I will not touch him. I will use him, Sam. I will make him my new, improved bitch. He will be a better partner than you have ever been, and to be honest-” The phrase was cut off however, as Sam lashed out on his tormentor, pushing him backwards with such force, that it took Lucifer by surprise. The impact made the suitcase slip from his hand and crush on to the concrete floor loudly.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Only then did Sam, who had grabbed Lucifer by the collar of his leather jacket, see the markings around the case. Ancient runes, in a language Sam had seen once before, were now surrounding the suitcase. Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to remember where he had seen those runes before, but it was futile. The letters started glowing, and Sam managed to make out one word, one name, to be precise, which made his heart stop. This couldn't be... “Where did you get that?” Dean croaked, voice distant. “Oh, this? After Sam killed Alistair, I made sure to assemble his belongings, things he really enjoyed using.” Lucifer explained, smiling wickedly. He then pushed Sam backwards, freeing himself from the hunter’s hold.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“When Crowley locked me in that cage, I asked for some fellow demons to search the place for the suitcase. Luckily, Crowley had stored it in a dusty corner and after I got free, I took it with me.” “So, this is Alistair's... Toolbox?” Mary rasped, shaking. “Yeah, you can call it a tool box. The catch is, however, that only a few beings, chosen by Alistair himself, can open the case.” He continued, eyeing Mary, who seemed lost. “I am one of them. Azazel was another one... Oh, and Dean, you can open the case as well, am I right?” The Devil questioned, raising an eyebrow.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean remained silent, as his mind was putting the pieces together. Lucifer had turned the tide in his favor yet again. There were only a handful of things Dean was afraid of, but those tools, were one of them. Should Lucifer subject him into relentless torments using those tools, then Dean was sure he wouldn't last. But that was fine by him. Those tools had stained and molded his soul, they had made him a sinner. It only seemed fair to meet his end like this. And if by dying, he could ensure Sam would live, then things were even better. And the vow? The promise they had made that night? The seal was one of blood and love, how could he break it?

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

All of a sudden, Lucifer’s cold, hard voice echoed in the bunker, bringing Dean back to the present. “So, here is your choice Sam... Take your mother, walk out the door as a free man, and come back one and a half hour later to pick your brother up. I assure you, he will still be alive. Damaged... But alive.” Lucifer said, turning his gaze on Sam once again. When all Sam did was to remain silent, Lucifer shrugged and with a wave of his hand, he threw Dean on the wall, hands above his head. “Dean!” Mary yelled, but Lucifer cut her off. “I'll take your silence as consent. Wise choice, Sam. Wise choice.” The disappointment in the Archangel’s voice was clear. Dean moaned as he felt his ribs cracking, but drew in a collective breath and managed to utter a few words. “Sammy... Go, you have got to go. You'll come back for me, okay?” Dean croaked, but Sam remained silent, unable to move.      

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Sammy, you have to go, take mom and get the hell out of here!” Dean said again, voice now sharper than before, commanding, urgent. But all Sam could do, was to look at that suitcase, eyes fixed on the burning runes, which were reflected even brighter in his watery hazel gaze. “Sam! Do as I say!” Dean rasped, as he beheld Lucifer moving towards his brother and the suitcase. At the sound of those words, Sam jerked visibly, eyes widening. It was as if someone had electrocuted him, for he gasped in anguish.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Wow, using dad’s ways, aren’t you, Dean?” Lucifer pointed out, making Mary’s eyes fly open. “Oh, don’t be so surprised, mama Mary. They were indeed, trained like soldiers. They have always followed orders.” Lucifer explained, amused, as he beheld the woman waving her head in refusal. “So, I think we have wasted more than enough time talking nonsense…” The fallen angel announced, as he extended his hand, taking a hold of the suitcase. “If you don’t wish to leave, then be my guest, stay here and watch…” The Devil pointed out, turning his eyes on Dean, who was failing to control his breathing. **_“Reserare[1].”_** Lucifer rasped in a low, yet firm voice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of gears and wheels turning, was then heard, and Lucifer swiftly  placed his left hand bellow the suitcase,  holding it at the level of his sternum. The suitcase was all of a sudden engulfed in flames, along with Lucifer’s hand, but the fallen angel made no move to pull it away. On the contrary, he carefully placed his right hand on the top of the case, letting it dive in the small lake of swirling fire. The tips of his fingers were touching the burning metal and the flames had now risen up to the level of his eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Mary took a few unsteady steps backwards, and was now standing only a few inches away from Dean. She inhaled loudly, when Lucifer let out a triumphant yell. “I summon thee, come forth, for your Master calls!” With those words, the suitcase finally opened, revealing shiny, well preserved and wisely chosen items, which made Mary freeze. Scalpels, small hooks, spiky lashes, shackles, iron bars which  could be secured around one’s neck so as to make breathing almost impossible, knives, burning stamps… Shivering, Mary let her gaze linger on some small bottles and a syringe,  which were carefully placed in a separate section of the case. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The flames were slowly dying out, revealing Lucifer’s burning eyes as they did so. There was something twisted in those eyes, Mary was sure of it. With slow, steady steps, Lucifer moved towards Dean and Mary, placing the, now open, suitcase, on the nearby desk. The runes which were encircling the suitcase, had now begun to lose their shine, but were still visible to the naked eye. Lucifer turned his gaze on Dean, allowing his lips to crawl upwards. “What an irony… You know what each of those tools can do. You know what awaits you. That must be far worse than it was, when you first saw those tools.” The Devil pointed out, well aware of the impact his words were having on Sam.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When no one uttered a word, Lucifer turned to Mary, who was still shaking, standing next to Dean. “Wondering what the runes say, aren’t you, mama?” Mary remained silent, but stepped between the Devil and Dean, with her back on the latter. “Get away from my son.” “I am only doing what Sam chose.” Lucifer answered, and with a wave of his hand, the runes were elevated and were now floating mid-air. Mary could only stare at the symbols, bewildered. “Unfortunately, translating them in Latin, is the best I can do. Ancient Demon language cannot be translated in English, not even by me.” The fallen angel explained dully. With a snap of his fingers, the ancient runes changed into understandable symbols and words, but still, Mary could not understand what they were saying.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean let out a gasp, making both Mary as well as Lucifer turn their gaze on him. Fiery letters were mirrored in his emerald green orbs and the older man had to lower his gaze, as memories flooded his mind. “Sam, go, leave, now…” Dean managed to croak out, his head still bowed. His voice, Sam noted, was filled with fear, and the young man could never recall a time when he had heard his brother sound so scared. It was these quivering whispers, that echoed loud in his mind, breaking through the veil of mist and numbness which had coated it. How could he allow this to happen? Dean had gone to Hell for his sake, he had undergone years of torture, and now, he was called to face those same torments which broke him in so many ways… ‘How I feel? I wish I couldn’t feel a thing. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing, Sammy…’ Sam drew in a sharp breath, as  the echo of those words, which Dean had managed to utter in between tears all those years ago, was now all the young man could hear.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

No, he couldn’t let Dean do this. Sam couldn’t allow Lucifer to tame his brother’s beautiful soul. He had already allowed him to break his, to the point where Sam was driven mad by the sheer memories of what he had gone through. He couldn’t stand it, if something similar was to happen to Dean. He opened his mouth to speak, but a low, devilish voice inside his head stopped him. ‘Can you bear such a test? You’re already broken beyond repair. Don’t do this to yourself…’ Sam shook his head as if trying to make those thoughts go away. But all he achieved, was for them to become even louder.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Don’t be stupid. What you’re about to do is not brave, it is foolish to say the least. Lucifer will tear you apart, and after he’s done, not even Dean will be able to pick up the pieces.’ A low, yet sharp inhale made Sam’s eyes fly open. Lucifer had turned his back on him, and was now heading towards Dean, a small knife in his grasp. Mary was shoved aside, but was unable to tear her gaze from the letters which were still floating in mid-air. “Those words are meant for Alistair, but since he’s not here, I’ll have to take his place…” Lucifer promised, taking yet another step towards Dean. Sam’s watery gaze met the one of his brother, and Dean spoke, his voice cold, unforgiving.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Sam, take mom and get the Hell out of here. That’s an order.”  Sam froze at the sound of those words, and he was sure that it was his father who had uttered them, not Dean. ‘Follow the order, don’t be a fool!’ The voice in Sam’s head cried out, but Sam closed his eyes, willing for his mind to stop working. Everyone fell silent. Even Lucifer paused, turning towards Sam. Swallowing hard, Sam felt hot tears behind his closed eyelids. He tried his best to hold them back, but it was all futile. Following orders was pointless, surviving almost three months in isolation had been for nothing, for Lucifer was free after all. Allying with the Brits, was yet another mistake… God, what was the point in all this? Sam felt as if he was drowning in an ocean of his own mistakes. He couldn’t breathe, there was not enough air…

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

‘I’ll get us out of here, Sam, I swear to you. I won’t let us die in here, in this underground hole, like some kind of low life rats.’ Dean had sworn when they were trying to get out of the bunker, a few hours earlier. His words had given strength to Sam, but what had taken him by surprise, was what Dean had done next. He had lowered himself to Sam’s level, kneeling before him. He had taken in a deep breath, ignoring the sharp pain in his lungs, and had shielded his mouth over Sam’s, giving him every molecule of precious oxygen as he exhaled in his mouth. Sam was stunned, but his numb body welcomed the gesture, and he could feel a sparkle of hope coming alive deep inside him. And as Dean repeated the procedure, gritting his teeth against the intense pain, Sam was sure that that sparkle was coming alive more and more, like a building fire.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sam let the memory engulf him, he allowed himself a few more seconds of peace. He let the memory of Dean’s lips on his own, be carved deep inside him, before taking in a deep breath, filling his lungs with oxygen, like Dean had done for him a while ago. His hazel eyes opened, and there was that very same fire Dean had started, burning within them. He had made up his mind. He knew he was a fool, not brave, but the line between foolishness and bravery is very thin, when love enters the game.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 Sam lifted his gaze, and started walking towards Lucifer. He took yet another sharp breath and spoke, voice filled with pain and guilt, but steady and sure. “I was never good at following orders.” He stated, not sure to whom this statement was addressed. “I have not been brave either, all I have ever been, is a fool. I’ve made the wrong choices, again and again, as I was unable to see what was right and what was wrong. I’ve failed the people I love…” Here, Sam paused, locking his gaze with Dean’s. “And even though I’ve tried to make amends, tried to make things right, in the very end, the people I love end up getting hurt, and are forced to pick up my pieces, to put me back together.” Sam’s voice wavered, but he took yet another step towards Lucifer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So… I am so sorry, for all these times I’ve chosen wrongly. This time, however, I can see what is the right thing to do. What is the choice I must make.”  Sam halted, eyes flicking on the Latin text which was still floating mid-air. He cleared his throat and spoke, making sure to harden his expression, to put on his best poker face. Making sure to brace himself for what he knew was coming. His eyes fell on his mother, but Sam carefully avoided his brother’s gaze, knowing well, that Dean would see right through his façade. Swallowing hard, he spoke, voice low.  

* * *

 

 

_“Fire burns as tears run, to flee he yearns, yet here he is banned._

_Hooked to chains, he trembles as the One draws near._

_Now nothing remains, of what he once held dear…”_

 

Mary’s eyes narrowed, as she beheld Sam moving with slow, even steps towards the Devil, his hazel eyes now fixed on the fiery letters which were still floating mid-air, right above the small pool of whiskey and the shards of the broken bottle.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Nothing to save him from his fate, no one will come, now it's too late._

_In the land of the damned he is now banished, and all hope has long been vanished.”_

 

Sam swallowed hard at that point, clenching his fingers into fists. He tried to get a glimpse of Dean, but the older hunter had averted his gaze, unable to look at Sam’s  figure. Sam, however, could tell that Dean was shaking. This was Lucifer’s ultimate game… And Sam, had made his choice. A choice Lucifer seemed to have finally understood, for he ever so slowly turned his back on Dean, facing Sam. The younger man spoke again.

* * *

 

 

_“Hear him cry, hear him moan, as he is viciously carved in stone._

_Hear him yell, hear him scream, as his tormentor rays supreme.”_

 

Sam came to a halt as he reached the shards of glass and the pool of brown liquor. His voice trembled, his breathing was now labored and his eyes watery. Lucifer took a couple of steps to the side, moving past Mary. The Devil moved almost choreographically, his steps slow, steady, quiet. Sam was shaking, yet,  he took in a deep breath and kept talking, voice wavering.    

 

* * *

 

_“And all hopes fade, for the ruler of the damned is here,_

_The one everyone fear._

_The damned, they utter his name, the play his game._

_They kneel before him, their humanity, they disclaim.”_

Lucifer’s steps led him right before Sam, but Sam refused to look at those fiery orbs. On the contrary, his gaze was fixed on Dean, who had now raised his head, revealing the tears which had escaped his green eyes and were marking his cheeks. Mary eyed Sam questionably, but she turned around abruptly, as a pained shriek emerged Dean’s throat. “No, Sam!” He cried out with all his might and Sam smiled inwardly. Dean could indeed see right through him.

* * *

 

 

 

Sam lowered his gaze, all the while swallowing hard. His eyes glanced over Lucifer to the last verse of the Latin text. The Devil stood straight, and was almost as tall as Sam. Mary couldn’t utter a single word, as the two were now standing so close to one another, separated only by the pool of whiskey and the shards of broken glass which lay at their feet. Sam eyed the Latin text which was floating before his eyes again, speaking for the last time, translating the final verse.

 

 

_“All values the damned forsake, and their soul,_

_now belongs to Alister to break..._

_No one from that land will ever, be saved...”_

* * *

 

 

Sam’s voice died then, and the Latin text dissolved in thin specks of dust as soon as Sam had uttered the last syllable. Now, all that was standing between Lucifer and Sam, was the shards of glass and pool of whiskey. To everyone’s surprise, Sam moved passed the Devil with an elegant move, heading towards the wall Dean was pinned on. His eyes were teary, and he was shaking like a leaf. He reached Dean without glancing over his shoulder at Mary, who was a few feet away. His long hands caressed Dean’s wet face, his long fingers lingered on Dean’s dry lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Sam, you fool, I gave you an order!” Dean rasped, but all Sam did was to smile sadly at his brother. Their eyes met, and Dean gasped at the amount of love Sam’s hazel orbs held. Letting his hands fall from Dean’s face, the younger man turned around, grabbed Mary, who yelped in surprise, and pushed her behind his own body. “Sam, what are you doing-” But Mary’s question was covered by Dean’s agonizing cry. “Sammy, don’t! Sam!” But it was too late. Sam had taken a few steps towards Lucifer again, only this time, when they met face to face, separated by the pool of whiskey, it was Sam’s large figure which was hiding Mary and Dean from Lucifer’s piercing gaze. There, standing tall, a guard for those he loved the most, facing the ultimate threat. The Devil himself.  

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Let them go.” Sam uttered, bowing his head in a gesture of submission. His hazel eyes were looking right back at him, mirrored in the whiskey. “Oh, and why would I do that?” Lucifer asked, mockery in his voice. He was well aware he had won the game. “Because… I choose to be yours…” Sam croaked, taking a couple of steps backwards. Mary thought Sam was retreating, but what her son did next, made her heart break. “Because, I beg you to let my brother go…” Sam said, as he kneeled down before the Devil.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And Mary could only watch, as Sam, who was so proud and tall, sunk to his knees, his head bowed down as well. “I have madde this choice willingly…” Sam croaked out, shoulders shaking, tears falling down his cheeks, mixing with the whiskey. Lucifer smiled, letting his hand find Sam’s chin, so as to raise the young man’s head. “And what does this choice make you?” He questioned, his grip on Sam’s chin tightening. Sam remained silent for a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That was it. He was going to surrender himself, his body, his very own soul to Lucifer. There was no turning back. Opening his eyes, Sam inhaled and spoke, voice low, but clear. “Your bitch. That makes me what I’ll always be… It makes me your bitch…” Sam croaked, and moaned as Lucifer pushed him backwards forcibly, while laughing minacity. Sam landed on the pool of whiskey and hissed loudly in pain, as his right forearm was torn by the sharp pieces of glass… Lucifer grabbed Sam by the hair and turned him around, so that he was looking at Dean. 

 

* * *

 

 

The Devil snapped his fingers and Dean fell on the floor with a loud thud. Mary rushed to his side, but he pushed her away, and fought to get up on his feet, to get closer to Sam. “I told you Dean…” Lucifer said, smiling. “Sam would come to me willingly…” He continued, letting his lips find Sam’s ear. “I’ll kill you, I swear, if you touch him, I’ll kill you!” Dean yelled, but his cries were met with Lucifer’s amused face. “I’d like to see you try, Dean… I’d like to see you try…” He said, and with the small knife he was still holding in his hand, he tore Sam’s cheek open, making him cry out in pain. Blood started dripping down marking the beginning of the most cruel revenge game to ever be played…

 

* * *

 

**_[1] According to Google, as well my great beta-reader, ‘reserare’ means ‘open up’ or ‘unseal’_ **

 

**_End  of Chapter 8..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends! Loved it? Hated it? Let me know if you want!!  
> So, until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!!


	9. "The hardest thing one could ask of you, is..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no seen. Sorry for that, but I am taking a very long and important project at uni, and my favorite professor is my tutor!! That was my dream ever since I entered university, to be assigned a project with that very professor as my tutor. So I am so happy, but also busy. Henceforth, I will not be updating every week, and for that I am sorry. I know it may bother you, but I write fanfiction to relax. I can't afford to be anxious about that too. I had mentioned that in my note in chapter 1, but I am saying it again now. Thank you for your understanding.
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to my beta reader '''Geekyfangirl131" for checking the chapter out!  
> So, with no further ado, off we go!!

_ **Chapter 9  “The hardest thing one could ask of you is...”** _

 

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

  
The Devil snapped his fingers and Dean fell on the floor with a loud thud. Mary rushed to his side, but he pushed her away, and fought to get up on his feet, to get closer to Sam. “I told you Dean…” Lucifer said, smiling. “Sam would come to me willingly…” He continued, letting his lips find Sam’s ear. “I’ll kill you, I swear, if you touch him, I’ll kill you!” Dean yelled, but his cries were met with Lucifer’s amused face. “I’d like to see you try, Dean… I’d like to see you try…” He said, and with the small knife he was still holding in his hand, he tore Sam’s cheek open, making him cry out in pain. Blood started dripping down marking the beginning of the most cruel revenge game to ever be played…

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean, get out, get out of here-” But Sam's raspy voice was cut off, as Lucifer tossed him on the opposite wall, making all breath leave his lungs it the process. “Agh!” “Sammy!!” Dean cried out in agony, only to abruptly pause, when the Devil glared daggers at his direction. “Now, now... I think that we should get some 'together time', don't you think so, _**Sammy**_?” Lucifer questioned and the younger hunter could only nod his head. “I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, what did you say?” Lucifer mocked, grabbing a handful of Sam's brown hair, yanking his head backwards, making it crush on the cold concrete wall.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean hissed in time with Sam, but remained silent, not wanting to provoke Lucifer any further. “Yes...” Sam muttered in between his teeth. “'Yes', what?” Lucifer asked, dragging the knife he still held in his free hand along the length of Sam's chest. Sam moaned but kept his mouth shut. He wouldn't give his tormentor the satisfaction of calling him 'sir', or anything else for that matter. A long sigh escaped Lucifer's lips and his face darkened. “Sam... Even now, you're playing hard to get... But as much as I love a good challenge, I am afraid I am out of time to flirt with you.” The Devil mumbled, grabbing the front part of Sam's shirt, throwing the young hunter face down on the floor yet again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Before Sam had the time to blink twice, he felt his hands getting pinned above his head and he tried his best to control his erratic breathing. Lucifer kneeled close to him, in between his long legs and grabbed the back of Sam's black shirt, obliging the young man to raise his head and look at Dean and Mary. “So, since we are out of time for flirting, I am afraid I have to use more persuasive means...” The shiver which ran down Sam's spine as hot breath trickled down his neck was not missed neither by Dean, nor by Mary.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Let him go, you twisted-” “Now, mama Mary, where are your manners?” Lucifer purred in Sam's neck, letting his hand travel downwards, trailing swirling paths on Sam's back. “Sammy here, has made his choice.” Mary's eyes widened and she tried speaking again. “You can't ask him to be-” “My bitch?” Lucifer cut her off, his eyes burning red. “Please... let them go...” Sam muttered under his breath, voice cracking. He felt hard eyes on his back and knew the fallen Angel had turned his fiery gaze on him again. “Please...” His small voice quivered, but Sam swallowed, getting on his hands and knees again. The Devil allowed him to move and turn his back on Mary and Dean.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Please... Let them go.” Sam offered, knowing that if there was any chance for his brother and mother to leave the bunker unharmed, then he would have to give up every bit of control, every bit of dignity he had. “I am afraid that the magic word is not enough this time, dear _**Sammy**_.” Lucifer retorted, raising an eyebrow as Sam bowed his head in resignation. “Please... Let them go. Please, _**Master...**_ ” Sam's whisper was so low, yet it somehow echoed loud and clear in the underground bunker. Lucifer smiled, eyes flicking on Mary, whose frame shivered. Dean's face paled even more and the green eyed man wasn't sure he had heard right.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Yet, he dared ask nothing, for he knew that any objection would result in his brother getting hurt. The fallen Angel let his hand mess Sam's hair before speaking up again. “You said I can't ask him to be my bitch. And yet, here we are, with me asking him to be my bitch and so much more. And _**Sammy**_ here, is on his knees, head bowed, calling me _**'Master.'**_ Something he did but a handful of times while in my Cage...” Lucifer's low voice sent shivers down Sam's spine and he found himself uttering words of denial and anger. “I never called you anything, you sick son of-” “Tsk, tsk, tsk... Silence _**bitch.**_ ” The Devil rasped, waving his hand again, making Sam hiss in pain and eventually go quiet.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean was sure he would either pass out, or vomit, or maybe both of those things. The sight of his beloved brother on his knees was something he couldn't bear to watch. And on the top of that, Sam had just called Lucifer-- The green eyed man shook his head. He couldn't even think of the word and the meaning it held, much less utter it aloud. Dean was certain that what Sam had just said was true, hence Lucifer's spasmodic reaction. He could remember Sam telling him about what he had to endure while in the Cage, but Sam had also told him things he had never granted to the Devil.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam had never willingly kneeled before his tormentor, he had never stopped fighting him, albeit he knew he could never win. It was one of those endless nights, during which Dean held a shaking, crying and disoriented Sam his his arms, whispering nonsense in his hair, all the while the young man was sobbing into Dean's chest, damping his night shirt with salty water, that Sam had first spoken of those hellish memories, which had driven him mad.

* * *

 

 

He had sobbed, fists clenching on the front part of Dean's night shirt, face buried in that muscled chest. Somewhere in between those gut- wrenching sobs, Dean could make out some words, incoherent at first, but as the hours were passing by, Dean had begun to understand that Sam was talking about the Cage... About the fire which wasn't burning, but was freezing instead. About the chains and the spikes and the lashes. About the smoke and the darkness. About Lucifer's hands on his body, about the times he had forced himself on Sam...

 

 

* * *

 

 

A sharp hiss of pain made the green eyed man jump and his eyes flew off to where Sam was, sprawled out on the floor, struggling to breathe.”Now that my _**pet**_ has gone quiet, let us resume our conversation.” Lucifer muttered, eyes on Sam. “I was saying that I asked of Sam to be _**my bitch**_. And as you can see, _**my bitch**_ he is. And frankly, It doesn't look so hard.” Fiery eyes met downcast hazel ones and Sam knew he had to back Lucifer up. He managed to get up on his knees once again, but made sure to keep his head bowed. “No, _**Master**_ , it's not.” He replied dryly, hoping beyond hope that Dean would find a way to cast the Devil out.

 

 

* * *

 

“See? My _**pet**_ reassures you as well. What I asked wasn't so hard. But, here raises the question... What is the hardest thing one can ask of you?” Dean's eyes became two slits on his face, but he could tell Lucifer wasn't just wasting time, he was going somewhere with this. He collected himself and glanced over his shoulder at his mother, his eyes sharp, warning her to mind her tongue. “Where are going with this?” Mary spat, rage in her voice.

 

 

* * *

 

“Patience, mama Mary. Each one of you will have to answer me. So, ladies first.” Lucifer waved his hand, urging Mary to reply to his question. The woman flicked her gaze between her sons, swallowing hard. She remained still for a few seconds and Dean feared she wouldn't be able to answer. But he was wrong.

 

 

* * *

 

“The hardest thing you can ask of someone, is to ask them to stand by and watch the people they love die.” Mary stated, voice haunted, figure shaking. “Good one, now, Dean, it's your turn.” The green eyed man fixed his eyes with Sam's, trying to reassure him that things would be alright. “Dean, I don't like to be kept waiting.” Lucifer rasped, snapping his fingers, making Sam scream as invisible bonds wrapped themselves around the younger man's throat. Dean's eyes widened, and he extended his hands in a desperate try to reach for his brother, who was writhing and choking. “Alright, alright, let him go!” Dean yelled, but his cries were swallowed by Sam's heart-wrenching screams.

 

* * *

 

“The hardest thing you can ask of someone, is to ask them to be forever alone.” Dean mumbled, but Lucifer paid no attention to him, for his fiery eyes were on Sam. “I'm sorry, what did you just say? I didn't quite catch that, it's noisy in here, isn't it?.” The Devil smirked, making Dean want to tear that face into shreds with his own hands. And yet, he remained still, favoring his uninjured leg, waiting for Sam's screams to fade and for his breathing to somehow even out. Then and only then, did he repeat what he had just said.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Right, here is another good point...” The Devil remarked, eyes still on Sam. “But you see, it's just not what I was hoping to hear...” The words were an indirect order for Sam to speak. The young man swallowed weakly, bracing himself for what was about to come. “The hardest thing you can ask of someone, is to...” Sam trailed off, licking his lips before speaking again, voice wavering. “It's to demand they make a choice. Everything we do,from the simplest thing, all the way to the most trivial one, everything is based on a choice...” The low whispers faded and the room went quiet, Sam's words hanging heavy above every one's head, making the air thick.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Now... That's what I was hoping to hear...” Lucifer's voice broke the silence and what followed was something none of the three hunters had seen coming. “I feel generous today, dear _**pet**_... So, the choice is yours.” “What choice?” Mary rasped, voice frantic, sharp, scared. “As much as I would love to allow you to sit here and watch as I tear Sammy into pieces, I can't resist the temptation of throwing the ball to him.” Lucifer offered, gripping Sam's chin abruptly, forcing him to look upwards. The young man flinched, hating the rough touch of Lucifer's fingers on his skin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“One of them will be locked up in a nearby room and I assure you, whoever you choose will remain unharmed. The one who will remain here will have to watch as I take my time and play around with you.” Sam's figure went rigid and he took in a sharp breath. “I will not harm neither of them, you have my word. But one of them will have to watch, as I finally take my revenge... Will have to watch as I break you into pieces, as I peal your mind, as I tear apart your very own soul...” Mary's eyes flew open and blurred, but Dean spoke before she had the chance to open her mouth. His voice was low, sad and filled with bitterness.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I'll do it.” Dean's sharp tone broke through Sam's hazed mind and he tried to tilt his head to the side to get a glimpse of his brother, but Lucifer's hold on his chin made moving impossible. The snap of bones was heard the moment the last word escaped Dean's lips, as the Devil darted his head upwards abruptly, fixing his eyes on sad green ones. “I don't remember asking you to choose.” He snapped, moving his hand from Sam's chin down to his throat, tightening his hold, making Sam unable to take in a deep breath.

 

* * *

 

 

“Stop it!” Mary cried out in desperation, but she was unable to utter anything else, for Lucifer's eyes narrowed and glowed a brighter red as he growled in anger. “And if I don't?” He asked, nails breaking the skin of Sam's throat. The energy which was surrounding Lucifer was so dark, that despite her determination, Mary found herself retreating a few steps. Dean, however, remained where he was, eyes filled with tears fixed on Sam, who was going numb from the lack of oxygen. The Devil threw the young man on the floor hard and fast, making him groan in pain as his abused body hit the cold floor. The fallen Angel moved in less than a blink of an eye, and in two large steps he reached Sam, kicking him hard, causing his ribs to crack under the weight of the assault, before speaking again.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sam yelped in pain and shut his eyes, attempting to make his vocal cords produce anything else, save moans and groans of pain. But as Lucifer assaulted him again, Sam wasn't sure he could speak aloud. He could hear Dean ranting, cursing and threatening to kill Lucifer and the younger man knew he had to ensure his brother's safety. But, try as he might, he couldn't bear the thought that he would be left alone with one of the most powerful beings alive. He knew that Lucifer would break him.

 

He would break his body...

 

 

He would shutter his already damaged mind...

 

 

He would destroy his soul, a soul which wasn't worth saving, for it was already broken beyond repair. And yet, a small, so small part of Sam was hoping against all hope, that Dean would somehow be able to pick up the pieces again. He knew it wasn't fair to ask this of him, God, it wasn't fair... But bleak as things may seem, there is always hope.

 

That's how the saying goes...

There is always hope.

And for Sam, there was only one hope. Dean was the only hope...

* * *

 

 

'You're betting on Dean?' Lucifer's sarcastic voice echoed in Sam's mind. The young hunter's immediate answer had surprised the Devil, but it was undoubtedly a truthful one.

'I always have, I always will.'

 

 

“Dean! Dean, let Dean stay, let Dean stay!” The young man wasn't sure how he got those words out of his mouth, but for better or for worse, he had managed to utter them, something which made Lucifer to finally stop kicking him. “I must say Sam, I am impressed. Taking into account all the things I am about to do to you, I thought you wouldn't want Dean to be here.” Lucifer spat, turning towards Mary and Dean. “But, you've made a choice nevertheless...” He continued and with a snap of his fingers, Mary was gone from Dean's side, making the green eyed man gasp in fear.

* * *

 

 

“Where is she-” All words died in Dean's mouth, however, when he heard hoarse cries coming from a nearby room. The part of Dean which was still able to function, remembered that there was a bathroom somewhere close to the bunker's main room. Mary's raspy demands for Lucifer to set her free echoed in the underground fortress for a few heartbeats, but were soon lost in Sam's screams. “Enjoy the show, Dean...” The Devil almost purred and with a wave of his hand, Dean was frozen in place, unable to move but only a few inches. “No, Sammy, no!” Sam heard the desperation in his brother's voice and managed to reply, voice broken. “It's okay, Dean... It's going to be okay...” He mumbled and Lucifer smiled down at him, an evil, promising smile... “So, Dean, like I said before, get comfortable and enjoy the show...”

 

* * *

 

 

And to his dismay, Dean realized that to watch what Lucifer was about to do, was the only thing he could actually do. “Stop, stop it, please...” Dean muttered brokenly, watching as Lucifer pushed Sam face down on the cold floor, tearing his black shirt apart. “Begging already, are we?” The Devil smirked, hands undoing Sam's belt and jeans. “But, what gives you the right to beg Dean? Sam is the one being tortured and yet, you are the one begging...” He pointed out, holding Sam's hands pinned on above the young man's head.

 

* * *

 

Sam's breath stopped and his eyes flicked on Dean for a second. Dean opened his mouth, but then closed it again; what was there to say? A part of the green eyed man wished that the reason Sam wanted him to be present and see what Lucifer was about to do, was that so Dean could feel the pain Sam was feeling. Because Dean had forgotten to power up the wards in the bunker. He deserved to feel every single moment of agony. His eyes flew open, however, as his mind understood what Sam wanted of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam never wished for Dean to feel hurt. He didn't wish to punish him. He needed him there, for he needed strength and courage. Sam needed him there, because he believed Dean could somehow save him... But he was wrong, he was so wrong... 'As long as I'm around, nothing bad will ever happen to you...' Dean flinched as the words he himself had uttered were coming back to haunt him. 'I'll save you, Sammy, even if it's the last thing I'm gonna do.' But, try as he might, Dean couldn't break free from Lucifer's invisible bonds. He couldn't protect his beloved Sammy from the Devil's cruel torture. He couldn't save him...

 

 

**_He couldn't save him._ **

**_All he could do, was watch._ **

* * *

 

 

 

_ **END OF CHAPTER 9** _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved it? Hated it? I would love to hear your thoughts!!  
> Next chapter coming right up!!  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi


	10. “Oh, from this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is chapter 10!!  
> Title is taken from Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' Act:4, Scene:4, Page:3 Not mine!
> 
> Also, referenced Implied Rape/Non-con elements. Implied Top Lucifer Bottom Sam. Mentions of Blood and Gore and torture.  
> You have been warned.  
> Special thanks to my awesome beta-reader "'Geekyfangirl131" for checking the chapter out!
> 
> So, off we go.

_ **CHAPTER 10: “** _ _ **Oh, from this time forth,** _ _ **m** _ _ **y thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!”** _

 

 

_ **NOW...** _

 

“So, Dean, like I said before, get comfortable and enjoy the show...”

 

And to his dismay, Dean realized that, to watch what Lucifer was about to do, was the only thing he could actually do.

 

* * *

 

 

Yes, Dean could only watch, as Lucifer penetrated Sam's flesh harshly, extracting desperate moans and pained yelps... Watch, as the confidence Sam had in himself was slowly pouring out of him, with every brutal thrust of the Devil's hips. He could only watch as Sam placed his palm over his mouth in an attempt to stop any words from escaping his bloody lips. Lucifer's fingertips were on fire and he was carving words on the inside of Sam's thighs, words Dean knew could never fade away. _**'Bitch.' 'Whore.' 'Tainted.'**_ And when it was over, Dean had no choice but to stay still and observe as Lucifer snapped his fingers, making thick, heavy, metal chains appear out of thin air. He could only watch, as The Fallen angel shackled Sam's wrist and started cutting and tearing apart the flesh of his back with a small, but sharp knife...

 

* * *

 

 

And then, came the whipping, the harsh, cruel sound of the leather belt on Sam's already torn back. Dean couldn't stop himself from counting the lashes. The first set consisted of fifty lashes, and then the Devil paused. The green eyed man gasped as he saw an all too familiar glow emerging from Lucifer's palm. Sam's body jolted and jerked and he shrieked as his ravaged flesh was knitted back together by Lucifer's healing powers. And then, the Fallen angel started all over again, with the next set of lashes being even more violent than the previous ones.

 

* * *

 

 

Blood died the floor red, mixing with the whiskey which was still lingering on the cold concrete. But Dean could only watch, and feel as though he was drowning in that marsh. Then, came the ice, which froze everything, and immobilized Sam's limbs. And then, the eerie, yet familiar sound of bones crushing into pieces, as Lucifer used Dean's bat to break the ice in which Sam's legs were trapped. Dean knew he had to fight. He had to at least try and free Sam... His efforts, however, were futile, for his injured leg gave out on him. There was nothing he could do to save Sam... Only to beg for Lucifer to get done with all this...

 

* * *

 

 

Fire then enclosed all three of the men and the ice started melting away, transforming the floor into a giant mirror, in which Sam's chained figure was reflected... The young man was now screaming, for the metallic shackles which were enclosing his wrists were burning his skin to the point where his bones could be seen. So, Sam kept screaming, his cries desperate and incoherent for the most part. But somewhere in between the animalistic howls, one could make out a name... The only name Sam could oblige his ravaged vocal cords to produce. “DEAN! DEAN!” God, Sam was begging, pleading, screaming for Dean to save him, to make it stop, to _ **please,**_ make it stop... But Dean couldn't do that. All he could do, was turn his blurry eyes away from the heartbreaking sight of Sam's flesh being burned...

 

* * *

 

 

“Tell me Sam, is he worth it? Is Dean worth it?” Lucifer rasped, the venom in his voice capable of killing him, should he bite his tongue... Dean yelled his brother's name, as Sam threw his head back in pain and all of a sudden the surrounding scenery faded and a myriad of images passed before green eyes. Sam and Dean together, drinking beer, sitting on the hood of the Impala, Sam and Dean kissing, playing cards, hunting, running away from a monster, driving down a long dark road, making love in the back seat of the Impala, burning their father's body...

 

* * *

 

 

Sam and Dean, saying goodbye before the Hell-hounds tore Dean's body into shreds, saying goodbye before Sam jumped in the Cage, before Sam fainted in Dean's arms after the trails, saying goodbye, as Dean left his last breath muttering how proud he was of them both, saying goodbye as Sam kneeled before Dean, who was holding Death's scythe and was ready to end his brother's life once and for all. Sam and Dean, laughing, crying, singing, kissing, hugging, living each and every moment to the fullest...

 

 

* * *

 

 

A part of Dean wondered how all those memories were on display, since Lucifer wasn't touching Sam's soul like he did before. But then, an explosion of light blinded both hunter and Devil as all those memories blended into something new. Sam and Dean, both young, very young, their faces still soft, their hearts still light and filled with hope. They were standing so close that they were breathing each other's breath. Dean gasped as he realized when and where this memory had taken place. It was so many years ago, but how could Dean forget? Sam was almost seventeen and Dean, in turn, was twenty one. They were at Bobby's, the house at their disposal. The fire was burning, sizzling in the old fireplace, lighting up the room, and the rain was tapping the windows...

 

* * *

 

 

But then all of a sudden, the fire swirled and like a snake, crawled out of the fireplace, burning threatening vines leaking the carpet, wrapping themselves around Sam's shaky legs, making his face twitch in pain... No, this wasn't how things had happened, Dean was sure of it. “Dean...?” Young Sam uttered in fear and at the sound of those words, something inside Dean broke. He snapped, taking his eyes away from the figures in Sam's now twisting memory, fixing them on Lucifer.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“When the Hell was this?” The Devil questioned, fiery eyes fixed on the younger version of Sam and Dean and the closeness the two brothers seemed had. The green eyed man remained silent, however, swearing silently that he would rather die than reveal to Lucifer what had taken place that sacred night at Bobby's. “I'll kill you, if you dare to mess with this memory, I swear, I'll end you...” Dean uttered in a low, promising voice. He thought Lucifer missed the words, for the real Sam was once again screaming bloody murder as the flames engulfed his entire frame, but to his surprise, the Devil turned around abruptly, eyes on Dean.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay... Since you're so eager to engage in a fight with me... Let's have it your way.” He muttered in a deadly voice, moving closer to the green eyed man, placing his palm on his forehead. Dean felt a familiar wave of warmth inside him and flinched as the wound on his leg throbbed before disappearing, healed by Lucifer's angelic power. He felt warm blood traveling down his numb leg and he couldn't help but let out a breath of relief at the feeling.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean's eyes widened in realization not a moment later, however, and the hunter retreated quickly, driven by pure instinct. The Devil was piercing Dean with his eyes and his focus was on him, thus everything else he had previously conjured started to crumble. The surrounding flames started to die out, as well as Sam's twisted memory of him and Dean at Bobby's. The bunker's walls were in place for yet another time, and Dean caught a glimpse of Sam's unmoving, chained body.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The chains rattled and turned into dust as fast as they had appeared, causing Sam's limp body to fall down on the floor. “I don't get it, why would you-” “You never get it Dean, that's the point!” Lucifer rasped coldly. “So, let me spell it out for you.” Dean locked his gaze with the one of his adversary and started moving to the side, in an attempt to move closer to where Sam was lying. “I healed you, so that when you drop dead by my hand, there will be no other explanation for your defeat, other than the fact that, I was better than you.” Lucifer retorted, an evil smirk on his face. “And when I decorate this place with your guts, I'll head over to _**Sammy**_ , to finish what I started. See, that memory you so badly want to conceal, isthe last memory that still remains hidden from me.” Dean clenched his fingers into fists, feeling adrenaline overrunning every corner of his body.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The hunter steeled his nerves as Lucifer kept talking, voice steady, sure and filled with irony. “The thing is, I could keep torturing him. But you see, my flames have burned him out completely. And before you say his body is not turned into carbon-- save his wrists of course which were burned by the chains-- let me point out the fact that my flames burn not only the flesh and the body, but also the soul the body conceals. They engulf it, peeling it off of every good memory, until its broken and molded to such extend that it no longer shines...” Lucifer declared, savoring the look of shock on Dean's pale face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“The flames burn the soul they engulf?” Dean echoed, more to himself, rather than Lucifer. He stilled, as his eyebrows knitted together, but then he gasped in horror. “Took you long enough...” The Fallen Angel snorted, smiling at Dean. “The memories I saw...” Dean uttered, voice wavering. “They were parts of his soul. I didn't have to touch it to make them emerge from the depths of his mind. My flames did the job. And guess what else my marvelous flames have done...” Dean found himself waving his head in refusal, tears falling down his cheeks. “They have burned his soul, Dean. They twisted and burned his memories...” Lucifer declared in a low, triumphant voice, pausing after every word to savor Dean's broken demeanor.

 

 

* * *

 

“So, in other words, even if I were to heal him, torturing him again wouldn't be fun anymore... He is almost dead. An empty shell, with nothing left but the feeling of fire and death creeping up inside him, feeding on his ravaged flesh.” The Devil continued, taking a step to the right as Dean took one to his left, the distance between them being only a few inches. “So, come on Dean... Here is your chance to kill me. Kill me, go ahead... Kill me, but know that I broke him. Know that, he kneeled before me, that he called me _**'Master'--”**_ Dean's hands were hooked on the collar of Lucifer's shirt before any more words could be uttered, and the Devil found himself been pushed backwards, losing his balance for a mere moment.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lucifer smiled at Dean, and spoke again, choosing his next words carefully. “Come on, make me pay! My hands ravaged his body, they tore his flesh, they broke his bones--” The punch on the left side of his face, was something Lucifer knew was coming and he barely flinched. He obliged his face to twist in pain however, wanting to give Dean the impression that he could harm him with his blows. The next punch was delivered right on Lucifer's stomach, followed immediately by an even harder one on the center of the Devil's chest. Heavy breaths filled the cold, dark room and Dean grabbed Lucifer by the forearms, using his right leg to deliver a blow on the Angel's leg.

* * *

 

 

 

Lucifer had no choice but to retreat further to his left, allowing Dean to move to his right, closer to Sam's unconscious body. The water which had remained on the floor after the flames had been put out splashed under Dean's heavy steps, as the man lashed out again, bloodied fists ready to collide with Lucifer's ribs. “Yeah, yeah, come on, big bro, show me what you've got!” Lucifer challenged and in his haze, Dean couldn't understand that Lucifer was just toying with him. The sound of bones breaking was heard, as Dean let his knuckles find their target. He was sure his own bones had cracked in the process, but he couldn't care less about that. The hunter growled deep in his throat and Lucifer snorted, swallowing hard, gasping for breath.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“You've got to do better than that Dean... After all, this isn't enough, not even close... All the things I did to your dear _**Sammy...”**_ “Don't call him that, ever again!” Dean yelled, eyes burning, like a forest on fire. He moved fast, faster than the Devil thought it was possible for an insubordinate, little man, and grabbed Lucifer's right hand, pinning it behind the Fallen Angel's back. Lucifer squirmed as he felt Dean's breath on his neck. The hunter stepped on the Devil's foot with such force, that Lucifer couldn't stop a gasp from escaping his lips.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Well... That's something. But still, it's not enough, I mean, just think about it, Dean. Think of how my thrusts tore his insides apart and now he is bleeding out like he should. Think of the fact that my flames burned his flesh, his very soul, think of how I now know every single memory _**Sammy**_ has, even those which he had managed to hide from me until now.” Dean's body trembled, his vision blurred.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Dean inhaled sharply and pushed Lucifer's body forwards, forcing him to stumble. Their legs tangled up together, as Dean tried to make his opponent trip and fall down, but to his credit, Lucifer used his free hand, punching Dean on the sternum with superhuman strength, making his breath leave his lungs. Both adversaries took a few steps backwards, putting some distance between them. Dean's eyes flicked to Sam, who was bleeding out on the floor. For just a second, he thought he saw a movement behind Sam's closed eyelids, but Lucifer's cold voice made him snap and he focused his gaze on the fallen Angel yet again. Dean placed himself before Sam, using his own body to block the sight of his brother from Lucifer's piercing gaze. “Is that all you've got, big bro?” The Devil questioned, raising an eyebrow.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Dean's gaze then flicked around the room and his heart missed several beats as his eyes caught the sight of Alistair's toolbox, lying open on the desk which was right next to where Lucifer was now standing. The Devil let his lips form a small smile, yet his eyes remained fixed on Dean. “Oh, I could use that toolbox. But I won't let you have this alibi, Dean. I will crush you with my very own hands.” With these words, Lucifer lashed out, grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt, kicking him on the leg before drawing his right hand back, only to unleash it like a riffle not a moment later. The force of the punch took Dean's breath away for yet another time, and the green eyed man was forced to take a few steps backwards.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Using all his training, Dean placed the weight of his body on his right leg to stop himself from falling down. Switching his weight from one leg to the other, the hunter managed to step forwards again,and he literally threw himself on his opponent, obliging Lucifer to retreat several steps. As a result, both the Fallen Angel as well as the hunter had now reached the desk on which the toolbox was lying. In a blink of an eye, Dean pushed Lucifer's hands off of him and lay one more powerful blow on Lucifer's right knee. The Devil would be lying if he were to say he wasn't surprised by the intensity of Dean's attacks. He smirked, enjoying the sight before him, for it was one he didn't get to witness often.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean's eyes were burning with anger, his chest was rising and falling way too fast and his breathing was labored, shallow. Sweat was dripping down his face as well as from his armpits, damping his shirt. His bloody hands were twitching relentlessly, as adrenaline was running within the hunter's veins. The sight was a rare one in itself and Lucifer had to admit, albeit silently, that Dean was a considerable threat when unleashed. He was uncontrollable, like a wild animal which had been imprisoned for far too long and it was now lashing out, ready to devour its captors.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted, however, as the fallen Angel felt a pair of callused hands pushing him to the side with such force, that Lucifer had to step aside in order to remain standing. He growled in anger, glaring daggers towards where Dean was now standing, only to stop dead-in-his-tracks, the moment his mind realized that he had been shoved away from the desk on which Alistair's toolbox was placed, and that Dean was now standing mere inches from the old, demonic relic. “It's too bad you won't be using those tools.” The green eyed man muttered coldly. “But that doesn't mean I will do the same.” With these distant words, Dean placed his hand a few inches above the open toolbox, letting his blood drip freely inside the case.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucifer smiled widely at that, his muscles tensing with anticipation. “So...” He almost purred, taking a few steps backwards. “You plan on wasting Sam's sacrifice by taking a hold and using those very tools which marked the damnation of your soul? Of a soul which was later saved by the Angels?” He questioned, voice filled with what could only be identified as pure curiosity. Dean, however, ignored him, green eyes fixed on the case before him, which was glowing a bright red light. Exhaling soundly, Dean spoke in a low voice, forming words he thought he would never have to utter again...

 

“ _ **Come forth, for your Master calls,**_

_**the one Alistair chose to trust you with,** _

_**when he would fall.** _

_**Obey me, and serve under my command,** _

_**for I, am forever damned.** _

_**Come forth, into my hand, now dye red, this wasteland.** _

 

_**Come forth, bathed in flame,** _

_**drenched in blood, clothed in shame.** _

_**Come and taint, come to claim.** _

_**Come forth, cause fear, cause pain.** _

_**Come forth, at the hand of the damned,** _

_**who once bore, the Mark of Cain!”** _

 

* * *

 

 

Dean's words were spoken in a low voice, yet they caused the markings around the toolbox to become visible once again, shining with a bright, golden glow. Not a moment later, the case to be engulfed in flames for one more time, as the lethal tools recognized the one summoning them. Dean shivered violently, but the thought of Sam lying on that cold floor, deprived of all the things which made him the man he was, a man Dean loved with all his heart and soul, was enough to make the green eyed hunter regain his composure. Sam was almost dead, and Dean would make Lucifer pay, even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

 

* * *

 

 

 

And it was in that moment, when the fire was reflected in Dean's emerald green eyes, that the older hunter let his tears fall. Sam had fought and endured torments beyond imagination for Dean's sake. So that he wouldn't have to be tortured by Lucifer, who would use these very same tools Alistair had used to break him. So that he wouldn't be near those deathly devices. So that he could be saved... But Dean could never be saved. His soul was passed saving. Because he had but one savior, and now he was lying on the cold floor, dying slowly. Thus, the least the hunter could do, was try and avenge his beloved brother...

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean dragged his gaze on Sam's figure momentarily, and for a fragment of a second, he thought he saw his brother moving. Blinking, Dean looked again, but as he had suspected, it was but a mirage... So, Dean turned to Lucifer, blade in hand, death in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

And so, he didn't see that a few feet away, Sam stirred and jerked, obliging his hazel eyes to open, albeit half the way...

 

* * *

 

_ **END OF CHAPTER 10** _

* * *

**_So, here it ends. Loved it? Hated it? I would love to hear your thoughts!And I don't know when I will post a new chapter. Hopefully it won't be long. Plus... The memory Dean saw, the one in which Sam and Dean are at Bobby's while it's raining and the fire dances in the fireplace... Yeah, keep that one in mind, for it will return very soon! (Any idea on what that memory actually is about...?) :-) :-)_ **   
**_Thank you all, for all your support!_ **   
**_So, until next time,_ **

**_Love you all,_ **   
**_Usagi!_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends.  
>  Loved it? Hated it? I would love to hear your thoughts! And I don't know when I will post a new chapter. Hopefully it won't be long. Plus... The memory Dean saw, the one in which Sam and Dean are at Bobby's while it's raining and the fire dances in the fireplace... Yeah, keep that one in mind, for it will return very soon! (Any idea on what that memory actually is about...?) :-) :-)  
> Thank you all, for all your support!  
> Until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	11. "When will you finally learn...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is chapter 11!! Thank you for reading and for all your support!!! I wish the story up to this point, was worth your time!! :-)  
> Warning: Depictions of violence and blood.  
> Also, no beta reader because I wanted to post this today, due to the fact that I won't have time next week. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

_ **CHAPTER 11: "When will you finally learn...?"** _

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

Dean dragged his gaze on Sam's figure momentarily, and for a fragment of a second, he thought he saw his brother moving. Blinking, Dean looked again, but as he had suspected, it was but a mirage... So, Dean turned to Lucifer, blade in hand, death in his eyes.

And so, he didn't see that a few feet away, Sam stirred and jerked, obliging his hazel eyes to open, albeit half the way...

* * *

 

_ **NOW...** _

 

'I'm sorry, Sammy... So very sorry...' The green eyed man thought to himself as he took a hold of one of the many daggers the suitcase held. He felt the vibration as soon as his skin came in touch with the, uncommonly cold metal handle of the dagger. He felt the markings that Alistair had inflicted on him with that very dagger, he remembered using it on thousands of other poor bastards who he later tortured...

* * *

 

 

He felt his blood freezing in his veins and time seemed to have no meaning for him. Lucifer's figure faded away and the only thing Dean could see, was Sam. Sam, who was on the ground, bleeding out to the death. Sam, whose memories were now Lucifer's playthings, whose body was broken, whose mind and soul were torn into pieces. Sam, who believed Dean deserved to be saved. Who still believed that Dean had a soul which was shining like a star in the early morning sky, pure and clean, valid, filled with love and kindness. Only he was wrong... “Taint my redeemed soul, you say...” Dean muttered under his breath, turning his gaze on Lucifer yet again.

* * *

 

 

 

“My soul has been damned for a vary long time now. Alistair broke it and even though Cas did try to fix it, he could never put all the pieces together. Not really. And then, came the Mark and with it...” Here, Dean's low voice trailed off and the hunter stared down at the blade in his hand. His eyes were reflected on the cold, sharp metal; Two green orbs staring back at him from within the silver dagger. “With it, came a darkness unlike anything I've ever known. And nothing could save me from that.” Dean uttered, only to pause momentarily, so as to flick his gaze on the Devil, who was taking step after step towards him. “Yet, little Sammy thinks he has managed to save you.” Dean huffed at the remark.

 

* * *

 

“No... My soul can never be saved. And neither can you.” Dean hissed, charging forwards. Lucifer smiled knowingly at his adversary for a second, and then clenched his fingers into fists, pushed his body forwards and lashed out as well. Green and red orbs were momentarily reflected on the silver relic, as Man and Fallen Angel collided. Grunts and moans filled the air and Lucifer had to admit that, now that Dean held the Dagger in his hand, his moves were a lot better than before. The green eyed man punched the Devil right at the center of his belly, and in less than a blink of an eye, he drew his hand back, only to make a move with his other hand.

* * *

 

A light whistling sound was then heard as Dean moved his hand, blade held tightly in his grasp. The sharp blade shone under the dim light, and it cut the air as Dean willed it, aiming at Lucifer's stomach. The light whistling sound, caused by the blade's movement, would have gone undetected by any human, but Lucifer, being an Archangel, heard it, and managed to grab Dean's hand in time. The hunter growled in frustration, but then smiled. He turned the knife in between his trained fingers and dragged it across the Devil's inner forearm, creating a long, deep cut. “Son of a bitch!” Lucifer cursed, but Dean didn't dwell on it. He moved again, kicking Lucifer hard on the leg, thus breaking the hold the Devil had on his wrist. Dean gasped for breath, his body shaking.

* * *

 

 

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Lucifer rasped as he looked at Dean, who had once again retreated, moving backwards, closer to the desk the suitcase was on. “Oh, yes, it does...” Dean retorted, grabbing a pair of brass knuckles from within the case, without letting go of the knife he was holding. “You see, Dean, maybe we are not so very--” Whatever words the Devil wanted to say died in his throat, however, as he saw Dean lashing out towards him again. “I think we have established that you can't really punch me-” The brass knuckles were hard against the Devil's cheekbones, as Dean used his right hand, then his left and then his right hand again, throwing punch after punch at the being who had hurt his beloved Sammy.

* * *

 

Lucifer was taken aback by the assault and had no choice but to retreat many steps to his left. The next punch was so strong, both Fallen angel and Man knew the latter's bones had cracked under the pressure. But Dean kept going, punching Lucifer with all his might, until, finally, the Devil lost his footing. Dean grasped the chance, putting his leg behind Lucifer's right foot, making the Fallen Angel trip. Lucifer extended his hand to his side, taking a hold of a nearby shelf which was pinned on the wall. Many books fell at Lucifer's feet, but the Fallen Angel couldn't care less. He used his free hand to push Dean to the side, so that he could move away from the wall and the shelf.

* * *

 

Dean groaned, but before Lucifer could take a third step away from the wall and towards him, the hunter swung the knife he still held in his grasp, dragging it across the Devil's chest, letting it tear open the flesh it came in touch with. Lucifer yelled in pain, shocked that a little human had managed to catch him off guard. He didn't have the time to make a move, however, because Dean screamed, a sound deep and inhuman. He moved again, stabbing Lucifer on his side, smiling like a madman as he felt blood dripping down from the wound.

* * *

 

 

“Hurts, doesn't it? That's what Alistair's tools get you. They can hurt Angels, Demons and humans alike.” Dean rasped, breathing heavily. His eyes shone with a dark glow and the hunter could feel something which was hidden deep inside him, coming to life. The thrill of vengeance, the twisted joy these tools were causing him to feel every time he would lay a blow on Lucifer; it was addicting. Like a drug. Putting all his weight on his left leg, Dean pushed Lucifer to the side. The Devil snarled as he felt his knees giving out from under him. Man and Devil fell on the cold floor, and Dean was fast to pin his opponent down, using his free hand and his legs.

 

* * *

 

“You bastard! What have you done to Sam?” He rasped, out of breath. “I've killed him!” The Devil snapped, using his elbow to lay a blow on Dean's chest. The green-eyed man pushed the knife deeper into Lucifer's flesh, but all the Devil did, was smile. “I've killed him. You will _**never**_ see him again, Dean...” “Heal him-” “He's dead, Dean... And you... You, have lost!” With these words, Lucifer grabbed Dean's hand, obliging the man to withdraw the knife from his flesh. Lucifer hissed, but pushed Dean aside with one move of his free hand. He got up on his feet, ignoring the blood, which was running out of the gash freely. His eyes were red, his breathing fast, his face hard like the stone.

 

* * *

 

“Now, it's my turn!” Lucifer yelled, as he kicked the hunter's rib cage time and time again, savoring the pained grunts which were escaping Dean's torn lips. The hunter felt blood welling up within his throat and instantly knew his ribs had cracked under the weight of Lucifer's assault. He felt his muscles going numb and the silver dagger slipped away from his fingers, hitting the floor. The rattle it caused echoed deafening in Dean's ears, blocking every other sound, as it signified the hunter's defeat and therefor, his hellish damnation...

 

* * *

 

“Lesson number one, Dean.” Lucifer said in an angry voice, bringing Dean back to the present. His green eyes flew open, and he shivered at the sight of the Devil standing atop of him. “Never let emotions cloud your judgment!” Lucifer yelled, bending down, grabbing the hunter by his shirt. He smiled as the smell of blood traveled down his nose and threw Dean on the wall, extracting yet another pained yelp from the hunter's torn lips. “Lesson number two: Never let your opponent start ranting about what they have done to you, or, about what you should do to them.” Lucifer said, clenching his fingers into fists.

 

* * *

 

He pulled his hand back, only to unleash it a second later, letting it collide with Dean's right cheekbone. “Because they...-” Punch on the jaw. “...Are just...” Punch on Dean's ribs. “...Toying with...-” Punch under Dean's jaw. “...You.” The last word was spoken in a low voice and Lucifer placed his lips so close to Dean's ear, that the green-eyed man felt his skin tickling as he felt the Devil's ice- cold breath on him. Lucifer then pulled back slightly, wanting to savor the look of realization on the hunter's face.

 

* * *

 

Dean leaned, beaten, against the wall, as fear and horror welled up in his eyes. “That's right, Dean. I knew you would make a move for that suitcase. And still, I knew you would lose.” He snarled triumphantly. Dean's eyes opened wide and Lucifer smiled at him again. He then punched Dean on his stomach, and took advantage of his half closed eyes.

* * *

 

The Devil pulled Dean away from the wall with such force, that the hunter stumbled on his own unsteady feet, falling on the floor, his knees hitting the cold surface hard and fast.”That's better. Now, you're where you belong.” Lucifer muttered under his breath, as he grabbed both of Dean's hands, pinning them above the hunter's head.

* * *

 

“Tell me Dean...” The Devil spat, pressing down Dean's right wrist, willing for the bones to break under the intense pressure. “Did you honestly believe, you stood a chance against me?” With his free hand, the fallen angel grabbed a handful of Dean's short hair, obliging the hunter to look up to him. Dean groaned as Lucifer stepped on the hunter's right ankle, putting most of his weight on it. “I mean, are you this stupid? No one could ever win against me.” The Devil continued, enjoying the sight of Dean on his knees.

* * *

 

Dean shivered as realization came crashing down on him. He had lost the fight. It was all for nothing, everything Sam had done. His brother had tried to save him, he had been more valiant than Dean would ever be, and yet, it wasn't enough. Dean wasn't a fool. Deep down, he was aware of the fact he couldn't defeat Lucifer, no matter what weapons he armed himself with. He could understand his end had come, especially when he was so close to dying. And at that moment, Dean Winchester was certain that Death was upon him... All he dared to wish, was that he could meet Sam in a better place... The hunter let out a pained breath and his captor's voice echoed loud in the bunker, pulling him out of his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, I like this Dean... You, squirming like the weakling that you are, looking up to me, yes, looking up, because you're on the ground, where you belong...” The hunter bit his lip as he felt Lucifer tightening his hold around his wrists. 'So, this is how it ends...' Dean thought, and his breath hitched. He thought of Sam, his Sammy, lying on the cold ground, still and pale. Sammy, who had given up everything for Dean, and yet it was all for nothing. Sammy... “So, Dean... I guess I win, and you lose...” The tone was dark, making the older man shiver. He felt fire on his wrists and saw that the Devil's fingertips were once again engulfed in flames. So this was going to be the end... Fire was about to burn him alive. Well, of all the ways Dean had thought he would die, this wasn't one of them.

 

* * *

 

Dean closed his eyes, holding back the tears. No, he wouldn't give Lucifer the satisfaction to see him cry. 'Sorry... I'm sorry Sammy... I'm sorry I couldn't win.' He thought and then his mind blanked. The bunker faded away, the cold, tall, dark walls crumbled and turned into dust. Dean felt as though he was floating in an ocean of water. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself not in the bunker, but at Bobby's house, that rainy night... Sam, young and beautiful, was standing close to him, his hazel eyes, filled with anticipation, glowing red as the fire from the fireplace was dancing in them. Dean lost himself in those eyes and was happy that it was the last thing he would see before dying...

 

* * *

 

“Oh, no, no, no, no... You don't get to do that.” The Devil rasped, his voice sarcastic, yet sharp. Dean was forced to open his eyes, and he hissed in pain as small flames started licking the skin of his wrists. “There is one last lesson for me to teach, Dean.” The hunter growled deep in his throat, but chose to remain silent. “I wanted you to open Alistair's toolbox.” “So you've said. You wanted to humiliate me.” Dean retorted, refusing to show just how much he was hurting. “Yes, there was this too. But there was also one more reason I wanted you to use those tools.” Lucifer explained, locking his eyes with Dean's.

* * *

 

“That's right, Dean. I wanted you to open that toolbox. I wanted you to stain your hands with my blood, to reclaim the title of the 'Great Tormentor'. I wanted you to take a hold of those tools.” “Why?” Was all Dean could bring himself to utter, as he felt all hope fading away. Lucifer smiled down at him again, waving his wrist a couple of times.

* * *

 

“Because...” Lucifer whispered, slightly moving to the side, without releasing Dean's hands. “I wanted him to see. See, that his sacrifice was in vain. I wanted him to see that you chose to taint your soul by taking a hold of Alistair's tools. A soul he suffered so greatly to protect.” Dean gasped then, feeling Lucifer delivering yet another kick on the abused muscles of his leg, this time, right where his wound had been until a few minutes ago. The hunter growled in pain but refused to bow down. He tried to free his hands from the Devil's iron grip, he squirmed and thrust against the bonds, but to no avail. It was all futile. Dean found himself breathing out a sigh of resignation as he bowed his head.

 

* * *

 

“And with that gesture you just did, my final lesson is taught.” Lucifer uttered in a low mischievous tone. “And that final lesson, was not meant just for you. In fact, it wasn't meant for you at all.” “What are you talking about?” Dean croaked out hoarsely, head still bowed. Footsteps echoed down the hall then, and the hunter froze in place as a familiar gasp reached his ears. Through half closed eyelids and blurred eyes, Dean saw Mary entering the room, her blond hair messy, her hands bloody, from pounding at the door of the room she was locked in, for so long.

* * *

 

Her eyes found Dean's figure, but she then turned to the side, and a muffled shriek escaped her lips, as her eyes took in the image of Sam, lying in a pool of his own blood, body broken, mind blanked, soul shattered to pieces. “Lesson number three.” Lucifer announced, voice sharp, cold and loud. “Never, not ever, dare to challenge me! Never dare to even think, with that tiny, barely functional brain of yours, that any of you, insignificant, unimportant, weak little humans, can win against me!” He continued, eyeing Mary and then Dean, who was now shaking, green-eyes fixed on the floor.

* * *

 

“Raise your head, Dean... Come on now, don't be shy...” The Devil mocked, but the green-eyed man refused to obey. “Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean... Come on now, I want him to see... Your paled face, stained by droplets of my blood. Your eyes, clouded with adrenaline, pupils dilated. Your hands, which so gracefully willed Alistair's tools...” Dean swallowed hard as soon as Lucifer's voice trailed off, cleared his throat, before speaking again. “You want 'him' to see... And yet, last time I checked, my mom was a woman.” He said, voice low, yet filled with irony.

 

* * *

 

“She's not the only one whose eyes are fixed on you, Dean. There is also little Sammy. So, come on, I want your face to be the last thing his sad, glassy, puppy dog eyes will behold.” “Yet, it was you who said that Sam is dead.” Dean uttered brokenly. Lucifer huffed in annoyance, grabbing fistfuls of short brown hair, obliging the hunter to raise his head yet again. “Well, I did say that, but then again, I may have lied, just a bit.” The Devil said and so, everything fell into place. Dean's face paled even more, if that was humanly possible, and his lips parted, yet no sound could escape them.

* * *

 

Because what Dean saw, no words could describe. No linguist could construct a word powerful enough, that its meaning could suffice what Dean was feeling at that moment, what Dean's blurry green eyes were witnessing. Because, a few feet from Dean, Lucifer and Mary, was Sam, who was still lying on the floor, blood all around him. His body was still, yet his eyes were open and glassy. But not blind. Dean knew Sam could see him. Small, labored breaths were escaping his torn, bloody lips, and he had managed to turn his head to the side. And so it was, that as Sam blinked, he saw Dean, he saw the blood on his hands and clothes. He saw Alistair's small blade...

* * *

 

“Look, dear Sammy! Look at what your beloved brother has chosen to become! Look at him, how he wasted your sacrifice, how his thirst for revenge blinded his eyes, how his hands, clothes, and face are covered in my blood!” The Devil ranted, eyes burning, piercing Sam. “Look at this pour, little man, whom you love so much, look at him and see, see the darkness which lingers below the surface. Look at him before you die, and see, see him for what he really is. A tainted, corrupted little human, whose soul you can never save!” Lucifer yelled triumphantly, getting behind Dean, grabbing Alistair's dagger from the hunter's grasp. Dean felt his hands falling to his side, finally freed from Lucifer's iron grip. But they were numb, heavy and cold. Like Dean's heart. Like Dean's very soul.

* * *

 

His hands were indeed numb, yet Dean dared to raise his eyes, and he really looked at his brother. Their eyes met, and spoke thousands of words, albeit their lips remained shielded. Sad emerald orbs met wet hazel ones and Dean gasped as round, salty teardrops, started falling from Sam's eyes, mixing with the blood, which was all around the young man. “Sammy...” Dean breathed out, as he bit his lip. He was forced to break eye contact a moment later, however, as he felt Lucifer moving again.

* * *

 

“No! No, don't!” Mary pleaded agonizingly, as Lucifer tightened his hold on Dean's hair, pulling his head upwards even more than he already had, pressing the dagger, which he held in his free hand, on the man's throat. Droplets of blood dyed the silver blade red, and Mary moved a couple of steps to the side, hiding Sam's limp body from view. “Don't be stupid, Mama Mary.” The Devil snapped. “Kill me instead of him. Please, kill me instead.” She pleaded, moving closer yet. “Enough with these stupid, self-sacrificing acts!” Lucifer rasped, and the room trembled as a wave of energy left the Archangel's body. “Any last words Dean?” He asked, dragging the blade further across the hunter's neck. “No, please, don't-” But Mary's cry was cut off by Dean's shaky voice.

* * *

 

“I'm sorry...” He mumbled, eyes moving passed Mary's figure. “Dean, it's alright-” The woman muttered, but the green-eyed man spoke again. “Sammy, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I couldn't win... Baby boy, I...” His voice trailed off then, and Mary realized with an aching pain, that Dean had fought Lucifer to avenge his brother. She swallowed hard, turning around, needing to face her youngest son once more, before stepping to the side. She wanted Dean to be able to see Sam. Sam, who was still and cold, Sam, who was bleeding out, Sam, who was-- Mary's eyes flew open as she turned around, and she gasped in surprise. She blinked, yet the image before her eyes remained the same. “Oh, God...” She muttered, awed, unable to move a mere inch.

* * *

 

Dean's eyes snapped open, his blood turning to ice within his veins. “Mom?” Dean gasped in surprise and saw Lucifer turning his head to his right, towards Mary, whose body was hiding Sam's frame. “Step aside, mama Mary... let the lovebirds play Romeo and Juliet!” Lucifer snarled, but the woman chose to remain right where she stood. “Move, or I'll make you.” The Devil rasped, and Mary turned around yet again, tear-filled eyes meeting shiny emerald ones. The hunter's heart fluttered then, and for a reason he couldn't name, was filled with hope.

* * *

 

Mary moved, taking three steps to the side, revealing Sam's frame. Revealing his hand, which he had dipped in his own blood, so as to draw the all too familiar symbol, which could cast Lucifer out. Dean's breath hitched; It would have taken a Herculean effort for someone bearing Sam's injuries, to stretch his hand to the side, so as to find a small portion of the floor which was not covered in blood, so as to paint the symbol. And yet...

* * *

 

“Go to Hell... And stay there...” Dean heard Sam's weak-- way too weak-- whispers and knew that his captor was as surprised as he was, if not more. “You son of a bitch, when will you learn your place?” The Devil howled, but before he could make a move, Dean obliged his hands to move, and he grabbed the wrist of Lucifer's right hand, which was the one he held the knife with. Time stopped then, and the Devil glared daggers towards Sam, who found the strength to speak again. “When will you learn... That I won't let you win? That I won't let you harm him?” He said, pressing his palm on the expelling symbol. The next second, the room was bathed in a white light, and Dean was careful, to instantly close his eyes against the blinding glow. The green eyed man yelped in pain as soon as he felt Lucifer's hands dissolving into light and dust and he couldn't help but fall face down to the floor.

* * *

 

And so it was, that the Fallen Angel had been defeated for yet another time. Because he had made the worst mistake possible. He had underestimated his opponent... And Sam Winchester, was an opponent you should not underestimate...

* * *

 

_ **End of Chapter 11...** _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends!! Lucifer is gone!!  
> I would love to hear your thoughts! Comments and Kudos keep me on my feet!!  
> Plus, the story has two more chapters left. It will have a happy end and we'll see our boys together again!  
> Keep in mind that the events of season 12 episode 23 will not be mentioned. (Hence the 'happy end')  
> Also, I will write both chapters and I will post them together, so that the story will be completed. But I do not know when I will be able to update. I hope it won't be long, but my life is filled with things that just have to be done.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all, yet again!  
> Until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!


	12. “Desperate needs, require desperate deeds...” (Epilogue: Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year to you al!! I wish you the best!! May you have health, may you dind hapiness and love along the way!!  
> So, here is the last two chapters of this story. Thank you all for all your support, for your comments, for your kudos, and for just reading the story!!  
> I wish you'll enjoy this!!!

 

_ **Chapter 12: “Desperate needs, require desperate deeds...” (Epilogue: Part 1)** _  
****

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

“Go to Hell... And stay there...” Dean heard Sam's weak-- way too weak-- whispers and knew that his captor was as surprised as he was, if not more. “You son of a bitch, when will you learn your place?” The Devil howled, but before he could make a move, Dean obliged his hands to move, and he grabbed the wrist of Lucifer's right hand, which was the one he held the knife with. Time stopped then, and the Devil glared daggers towards Sam, who found the strength to speak again. “When will you learn... That I won't let you win? That I won't let you harm him?” He said, pressing his palm on the expelling symbol. The next second, the room was bathed in a white light, and Dean was careful, to instantly close his eyes against the blinding glow. The green eyed man yelped in pain as soon as he felt Lucifer's hands dissolving into light and dust and he couldn't help but fall face down to the floor.

And so it was, that the Fallen Angel had been defeated for yet another time. Because he had made the worst mistake possible. He had underestimated his opponent... And Sam Winchester, was an opponent you should not underestimate...

* * *

 

 

_ **NOW...** _

 

The blinding light faded into nothing mere moments after Sam had pressed his palm on the expelling symbol, which he had somehow managed to paint on a dry portion of the cold floor. No sooner did the light fade, than Dean gasped, taking in deep, uneven breaths. He struggled and eventually got on his feet, frame shaking and trembling. “Dean!” Mary rasped in horror, but the green eyed man extended his hand towards her, silently suggesting that she shouldn't come anywhere near him. And she really shouldn't, Dean thought to himself as his eyes took in the brass knuckles which he was still gripping tightly. To say that his blood was boiling in his veins and that his flesh was thirsting for blood, would be an understatement.

* * *

 

 

 

“Mom, go to the control room, go power up the wards. Now!” Dean ordered as he struggled to take a few steps to where Sam was lying. The woman hesitated, eyeing her eldest through a veil of tears. “Mom, go, please, you have to go now, before Lucifer comes back.” The hunter explained tiredly, voice hoarse, heavy. Mary took in a sharp inhale, letting her gaze momentarily find Sam's figure. She turned her face to the side, swallowing hard at the heartbreaking sight. “Okay, alright.” Was all she uttered, afraid to point out the fact that, after his heroic action, Sam's eyes had fallen closed and his ravaged body had gone rigid. “It's the third lever, it's the only one I haven't turned back up.” Dean declared, and Mary bit her lip at the amount of self-loathing her son's voice held. She nodded her head, saying nothing else, before turning on her heel, heading towards the control room.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Sam, Sammy!” The green eyed man croaked out hoarsely, taking unsteady wobbly steps towards his brother. “No...” Dean breathed out, voice wavering. His legs trembled and he found himself unable to remain on his feet. A small sploshing sound was heard then, as Dean's knees made contact with the pool of blood which had formed all around Sam. The splash made the older hunter flinch, as it echoed loudly in the deathly silence of the banker. Dean swallowed hard, flicking his gaze from Sam's pale face to his own hands. With slow, hesitant movements he extended his hands, wishing to caress his brother's face. He stopped dead-in-his-tracks however, as the silver brush knuckles shone under the dim light of the room. Silver, stained with blood, was covering Dean's long callused fingers and the green-eyed man hissed at the sight. Upon realizing he was about to touch Sam with those stained hands, Dean physically recoiled, drawing them away from his brother's body.

* * *

 

 

 

As if afraid that Sam would disappear from where he was lying, Dean kept his eyes on him, whilst obliging his right hand to move. He removed the brush-knuckles from his left hand and then from his right hand, with fingers numb and cold. A loud thud echoed in the room when the silver brush-knuckles hit the floor, but the rattle went unheard, because all that mattered for Dean, was the slow, uneven breath Sam had just taken in. “Sammy!” Dean rasped, tasting blood as he spoke. Sam's frame shuddered and Dean's hands-- now free of all the hellish bounds-- moved in their own accord, cupping Sam's face. “Sam, hey, hey, it's me, baby boy, it's me...” All the fire which was Dean's blood was suddenly transformed into a sea of thick, liquid ice, as the urge to help and protect Sam overpowered even the most powerful of desires Dean might have had at that moment.

* * *

 

 

 

The hunter's muttered reassurances fell on deaf ears however, as Sam was unable to hear what his brother was saying. “Sammy--” The humming sound of the warding system cut Dean off, and emerald green eyes shone ever so brightly, as they witnessed all the wards shining one by one. Dean's eyes followed the trail of the wardings and moved from one side of the main room to the other, making sure that each and every symbol was activated. The lights were also restored back to normal and Dean found himself thanking Chuck for the fact that Lucifer could no longer enter the bunker. Green eyes returned back on Sam's ravaged frame, blurring as the extend of the injuries was now visible better than ever before, due to the many lights. Dean shivered, vaguely aware of the fact that his own body was also on the verge of giving out.

* * *

 

 

 

“Hello boys...” Came a low snarl from the back of the room, making Dean's eyes fly open. “You?” The hunter rasped, turning his head to the side. “You were supposed to be dead...” Was all Dean blurted out as he tried to get on his feet. “So were you, a long, long time ago. But no, here we both are.” Was all Crowley replied sarcastically. “Well, it's good that you're not dead...” Dean muttered and his voice trailed off. The pause caused Crowley to raise an eyebrow. “Because that means I have the chance to kill you...” Dean croaked out, obliging himself to get up on his feet. His attempt was unsuccessful however, for he slipped on the pool of blood, falling down on the floor next to Sam's still body, yet again. Crowley blew out a heavy sigh and moved closer to the brothers, his black coat flapping gracefully as he moved.

* * *

 

 

 

“You sold us out, you slimy son of a bitch!” Dean rasped in anger, his blood-shot eyes glaring daggers towards the former King of Hell. Crowley stared back at Dean, his face unreadable. “You are the reason why Rowena's spell didn't work, you're the reason Lucifer came here--” “Yes, you're right, I am a selfish, very selfish demon!” The King of Hell retorted, underlining the last word, as if trying to remind Dean of his origin. “But I am also your only hope at saving yourself as well as your brother.” Crowley pointed out, darting his eyes on Sam. Dean gasped, but before he could do or say anything, he started coughing uncontrollably, body writhing and shaking. Blood welled up in Dean's throat and the green-eyed hunter found himself gasping for air all the while he spewed out, gulp after gulp of blood.

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean!” Mary croaked out in panic, as soon as her son's hunched frame became visible from the end of the corridor, where she was standing. The blond woman ran all the way up to Dean, falling on her knees beside him when she had finally reached him. “And you must be mama Winchester.” Crowley spoke casually, as he kneeled next to Dean. “Who the Hell are you?” Mary rasped in anger. “Crowley, the King of Hell. Surely, you have heard of me--” A gun was pointed at him before he could finish that sentence and Mary, honoring the title of the expert hunter, got back on her feet, finger on the trigger. “Step away from my sons.” She commanded, but all Crowley did was to get his hand in the pocket of his coat and reveal a small vial. “What's that?” Mary snapped, gun still aiming Crowley at the head. “Angel grace. I had created a stash a few years back. And since there is no available Angel nearby, this is the only thing that can save Dean.” Crowley explained in a hurry and wasted no more time in politics.

* * *

 

 

 

“Will you help me, or will you keep pointing the gun at me?” The demon rasped, eyeing Mary. “For all I know you could be killing him!” She retorted at once. “Believe me, mama Winchester, he doesn't need my help to die, he has done a fantastic job on his own!” Crowley replied as he pushed Dean, who was still coughing, backwards. “Why are you helping them? You're a demon.” Mary asked, as she placed Dean's head on her lap. “Because... They are the only ones who can save this world.” Crowley admitted dryly. He then opened the small vial and let his red eyes come forth. With a movement of his hand, he spilled the shining substance all over Dean, making sure to use his telekinetic powers in order to hold the floating Angel Grace close to Dean's body. Mary gasped in bewilderment when she saw that the cuts on Dean's hands, as well as his cracked bones were starting to heal.

* * *

 

 

 

Dean let out a breathy sigh and his eyes fluttered closed as the Angelic grace surrounded him. Mere moments later, it dissolved into nothing. “Where did it go?” Mary muttered in a low voice. “Do I look like an Angel to you?” Crowley snapped. “I just willed the Angelic grace to stay close to Dean's body and heal him. Hopefully, there is still a trail of Castiel's grace in Dean's blood, from when he pulled him out of Hell. If that's the case, then the grace I gave Dean will enter his system and heal him, for he has been saved from Hell by an actual Angel.” The demon explained, deeply annoyed. Mary opened her mouth to speak, to ask what was going on, but then Dean opened his eyes, breathing in and out many times. As soon as the room stopped spinning, Dean bolted upright, almost knocking Crowley out.

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean, calm down--” “What did you do?” Dean rasped, grabbing Crowley by the collar of his coat, pinning him down on the floor. “What did you do, you son of a-” “Dean, he saved you!” Mary cried out, her remark causing Dean to stop his movements. “How?” “Likely for you, Dean, I had some Angel Grace stored away from the time when your pall Castiel was working with me. I always carry a couple of vials with me.” Crowley said, pushing Dean's hands away, getting up from the floor and on his feet. He straightened his coat, before speaking again. “I used the first vial to heal myself and the second one, on you.” He continued, his tone dark. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley stopped him, raising his index finger. “Your body recognized the Angelic energy and accepted it. You see, there is still a trail of Castiel's grace within you, so your body responded, despite the fact that I am no Angel.” Dean could only stare at the man before him.

* * *

 

 

 

“Why did you save me? Sam needs--” Dean came to an abrupt halt, all words dying in his throat at the sound of his own words. Oh God, Sam... Dean turned his head to the left, eyes widening as he saw that his brother was still lying on the floor, surrounded by his own blood. Dean swallowed hard, frame shuddering. “Help him!” Dean commanded in a frantic voice. “I am no Angel, and your brother is past saving. The best you can do, is to put a bullet in him. Put him out of his misery.” Crowley muttered, eyeing Mary, whose face darkened. Her eyes flew to Sam, and she gasped as she saw the small breaths her youngest was taking in. “The only one who will get a bullet in his head will be you, Crowley.” Dean hissed, eyes burning. “Dean... Look at him... He's suffering...” Mary's voice trailed off, fading into nothing. Yet the words she didn't utter made Dean shiver. He glared at his mother, but chose to focus on the demon for the time being.

* * *

 

 

 

“You wanted to get your revenge from Lucifer, but it all backfired and now, your ass is on the line. You got away once, Crowley, but lets face it, there won't be a next time.” Dean hissed, hovering over Sam protectively, not caring that his jeans were damped in Sam's blood. Mary's eyes snapped on Crowley, her mouth falling open. “You need us to help you with Lucifer. You need us, to save you. That's why you came here.” Dean pointed out, eyes cold, unforgiving. “And you know it, that if there is the slightest chance of defeating Lucifer, you need both of us to fight.” Dean continued, waving his hand between his and Sam's bodies. “So, you're going to help me save Sam, or else, I swear, I'll put a bullet in your head.” The words were spoken lowly. Dean wasn't just threatening Crowley, he was promising that he would end him.

* * *

 

 

 

Crowley blew out a heavy breath, moving closer to Sam's body, letting his eyes take in the gashes, the broken bones and the burned flesh. “We should get him to a bed.” the demon said, placing his index and middle finger of each hand on Sam and Dean's foreheads, transporting them in Dean's room. Mary's eyes flew open when all three of them disappeared from before her eyes, but Dean's voice, which was coming from his room, calmed her down. She got up and rushed into the room, gasping when she saw Dean's sheets drenched in blood.

* * *

 

 

 

“What can we do for him?” Mary uttered, voice wavering. “His injuries are too sever, and much deeper than the eye can see.” “Lucifer said...” Dean paused, but forced himself to keep going a moment later. “Lucifer said he burned his soul...” The green-eyed man stumbled on his own words. “If that's the case, then, no amount of Angelic grace, or spell, nor yet a doctor can heal the physical wounds.” Crowley said, his voice steady, yet to Mary it sounded sad.

* * *

 

 

 

“The only way to heal him, is from the inside.” Dean's face frowned, for he had heard those words before. “If you're talking about a possession--” “No, no. You need to heal his soul. If his soul could be restored, then his body would heal.” Mary raised an eyebrow at the sound of these words. “If there is one thing I've learned from when I was hanging out with your pet-Angel, Castiel, it's that a human soul-- damaged as it may be-- holds an immense amount of pure energy, which is capable of things your little mind can't possibly coperhent.” Crowley said, voice filled with irony. “Okay, so what do I do?” Dean rasped, voice high pitched. “For starters, you'll need to get inside his mind. From there, you'll have to search for him.” “What?” Both Dean and Mary questioned at the same time. “When someone's memories are being destroyed, he's trying to find solace in the depths of his mind. Sam is alive-- albeit barely-- because he has managed to flee deep within his mind, in a place—in a memory which Lucifer didn't ravage.” Crowley explained in a hurry.

* * *

 

 

 

Dean's eyes widened as his mind recalled the fiery tongues Lucifer had conjured and how they were burning Sam's flesh... How they were burning his memories... 'I have seen everything Dean...' The Devil's voice echoed in the hunter's head, cold and cruel. Dean's heart sunk in an ocean of despair, only to miss a beat and stumble on itself a mere moment later. “There is one memory Lucifer didn't see...” The green eyed man uttered, licking his lips. “I'm guessing that you do know what that memory is about.” Crowley pointed out. Dean could only nod. “If you do this, you'll need African dream root. Lots of it.” The demon pressed, watching as Dean got on his feet and exited the room as soon as the last word had reached his ears.

* * *

 

 

 

Mary swallowed hard, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, whilst her back was leaning heavily against the wall. She was standing as far from the drenched bed as the room would allow her. “What are the chances of Dean succeeding in bringing Sam back?” She asked hesitantly. “The chances are too small.” Was all the man replied, eyeing the blond hunter thoroughly.

* * *

 

 

 

Mary lowered her gaze, letting her shoulders fall. She took a moment, as if weighing her options and then she spoke. “And what happens to Dean if he fails to get Sam out of wherever he has fled?” The words were spoken in a low tone. “He will get trapped in Sam's mind and he will eventually die. His soul will linger and will eventually burn out. His body will follow down the same path, and his heart will inevitably stop.” “So, he will die.” Mary rasped hoarsely. “It's worse than death. His soul will dim and fade, leaving his body empty.” Mary darted her head upwards. “Then, I will be the one to do it.” She offered, voice relatively steady. “You can't. You don't know any of Sam's memories.” Dean, who entered the room holding a glass filled with African dream root, stated, leaving no room for an argument. “Dean--” “Crowley, give us a minute.” The hunter said and the King of Hell left the room muttering something about 'ludicrous family drama' under his breath.

* * *

 

 

“Dean, I'm his mother. I'm your mother!” The woman muttered, voice wavering. “I was screaming bloody murder for hours on end when I gave birth to Sam and then... Then, I never got the chance to be there for him.” Mary continued, flourishing her hand between Sam and Dean's bodies in an attempt to emphasize her point. “And when I thought I could finally make up for the lost time, Lucifer burst in and I found myself locked away, pounding on the door whilst listening to Sam screaming and crying out your name...” “Mom, stop this.” Dean tried to speak, but his throat was dry all of a sudden. “I can't sit here and do nothing. At least let me do this one thing...” The woman pleaded brokenly. Silence then fell in the room, but was short lived, for Dean spoke, voice low, but steady. “You can't do it, mom. You just can't.” The green-eyed man said, dragging a chair next to the bed, whilst placing the glass with the African dream root on the nightstand.

* * *

 

 

 

“You don't know that Dean--” “Yes, I do. I know it, because I know Sam. I know him like the back of my hand. I raised him. I was always there. Through the good, the bad, the ugly. I was there when he would cry, when he would smile. I trained him. I made sure he had enough food to eat even if that meant I didn't get to eat at all. I watched him grow and...” Dean trailed off, pressing a hand on his face. “And I have always been looking out for him. I am not going to stop now.” Dean concluded, seeing that Crowley was standing by the door. “Dean you love him more than you should.” Mary rasped, her words echoing loud in the silence. Their hidden meaning however, was crystal clear to Dean. “Yeah, I do. I do love him. I love him so much that I can't control it. So, if there is a chance that my stained, burned, broken soul can heal him, then I'll take it.” Dean said dryly. His words were heavy and raw, and Mary had to physically recoil. She took a step back, as if she had been slapped.

* * *

 

 

 

“Dean... Your feelings for Sam are--” “My feelings for Sam got out of hand a long time ago and turned into feelings no siblings should ever have for one another.” Dean muttered, looking at Sam. “But in all this madness, in all this never-ending fight, my feelings for Sam kept me sane. And when Sam returned them in earnest, then I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt, that this fire which was burning inside me would never fade.” Dean's voice trailed off then and silence leaped between the two hunters. “Mom, I know you can't just be okay with what Sam and I have. But--” Mary, however, cut Dean off.

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Sam... Does he... Share those feelings?” Mary heard herself asking and blinked reflexively. Dean's eyes scanned his mother's face before returning to Sam. “Yes, mom. Sammy--” Dean paused, swallowing hard. “Sam loves me more than he should. Maybe more than I love him.” The green-eyed man whispered and the weight of his statement came crashing down on him the very next second. Of course Sam loved Dean more than it was humanly possible. He allowed Lucifer to torture and abuse him, so that Dean would remain unharmed...

* * *

 

 

 

Unspoken words were hanging over their heads, but neither mother nor son pressed the matter. Now it was not the time. “Mom, if you want to help, then keep an eye on Crowley.” Mary nodded her head and Dean sat on the chair. Crowley took the hint, entering the room. He was careful, however and remained close to the door. “You know you're signing up for a suicide mission, don't you?” He questioned, but Dean remained silent. “Once you find that unstained memory, you'll have to search for Sam. He will most likely be hiding. I doubt he will even recognize you. Regardless of that, you have to try to earn his trust. You have to get him to follow you out of that safe place and back on the surface.” The demon further elaborated, but Dean ignored him, for he opened the drawer. “Weapons are useless in a mental plane.” Crowley stated, and Mary could almost hear his eyes rolling. Yet, what Dean got out of the drawer was not a weapon, nor a knife. It was a necklace. “An amulet?” Mary questioned as she watched Dean passing the thin leather cord over his head, letting the small bronze amulet fall in its usual place.

* * *

 

 

 

“I'm going to get you out, Sam. I promise you...” The man muttered deep in his throat. He then grabbed the glass with the dream root, emptying it in one long gulp, not caring about the awful taste which was left lingering on the tip of his tongue. He placed the now empty glass on the nightstand and waited, knowing that he would soon be asleep. “Dean?” Mary's voice sounded distant when the woman called his name, and Dean managed to move his hands, gripping Sam's numb ones tightly. 'I'll get you out Sammy, I'll get you out, or I'll die trying.' Dean thought to himself. It was the last thing he thought before letting his eyes flutter closed and then everything went black.

* * *

 

 

 

When Dean opened his green eyes again, all breath left his lungs. He found himself not in his room, but in the middle of a-- “Where the Hell am I?” The man muttered under his breath, but he immediately regretted his decision, for the air he inhaled was hot and dry, filled with ash and dust. Dean started coughing frantically, and placed his hand before his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter the air which was entering his system. But it was futile, every inhale was painful, as if thousands of razors were traveling down Dean's throat. The hunter cursed inwardly but the need to find Sam pulled him back on his feet. He told himself he was inside Sam's mind and with this thought in his head, Dean got up and took in his surroundings, keeping in mind that he needed to find Bobby's house, for there was where Sam had fled, that was the only memory which Lucifer hadn't been able to see.

* * *

 

 

 

Dean blinked a couple of times and waved his head from side to side, gasping in horror at the sight he beheld. He was standing in the middle of nowhere. He was standing all alone, in the middle of an open space, with a deathly silence hanging over his head. He gazed at the ground below him, letting his foot kick some of the dust which was on it. The small cloud started floating in the air and Dean's eyes widened when he realized that what he was stepping on was a thin layer of ash. Dean swallowed hard, darting his head upwards. A cold, graceless light was illuminating the gray sky, but Dean's brows came together as he saw that there were no clouds hiding the sun. The sky was just an endless, plane, gray orb, which did nothing to help Dean get a sense of direction. Clearing his throat, the man opened his mouth to speak.

* * *

 

 

 

“Sam? Sammy, where are you?” Dean called out, as he started to walk. Where he was going however, he had no idea. “Sammy!” Dean yelled again, and again, stopping only when he felt he had stepped on something. Taking a step back, Dean extended his hand, taking a hold of a tiny, dusty little thing, which he brought before his eyes. Blowing the dust and ash from it, Dean gasped as he realized that, in between his fingers he was holding the ring Sam had bought for Jessica all those years ago. “Sam! Sammy!” Dean cried out anew, darting his head from side to side. He noticed that a few feet from where he was standing, there seemed to be an old building. Dean ran towards it, climbing the external staircase which led him to a closed gate. On the upper part of it, there was an inscription, which read: “Welcome to Stanford University.”

* * *

 

 

 

Dean let out a pained sigh, for the building was also burned to the ground. This inscription was all that was left of a life Sam once had and could never dream of again. As he turned around, Dean took in the scene before him. Below him lay a vast field, which was covered in dust and ash. It was spreading endlessly; cold, cruel emptiness, was all Dean's eyes could see. The fade, peculiar light which was coming from above was now flaring, so Dean narrowed his eyes, scanning the ravaged land for any sign of Bobby's house. But to no avail. Scattered across the wasteland –which was Sam's mind-- were only burned buildings, which were still smoking, logs and broken brunches. Dean's eyes watered and his breath hitched. There was nothing left standing, no sign of life, only ash, crumbling buildings, dust and death. “No...” Dean uttered under his breath, voice cracking. “No, no... Sam, no...” The whispers were lost in the surrounding silence and Dean felt his heart missing several beats...

* * *

 

 

 

“No!” Dean croaked out, as he started running. He wouldn't give up, not now. He climbed down the stairs, and headed to his right, and what he thought to be the West, leaving the burned building of Stanford University behind him. And he ran, for miles on end, until the cold light which was illuminating the deserted landscape faded away and darkness fell over the vast wasteland, surrounding everything, concealing every possible trail, leaving Dean unable to keep going. The green-eyed man came to a halt, pounding for breath, his face drenched in sweat. His knees trembled, resulting in Dean falling down on the ground as he attempted to take another step. Specks of ash and dust started swirling around him, moving in a crazy dance. Dean breathed out a shaky breath, flinching when a white light shone ever so bright in the dark.

* * *

 

 

 

Green eyes widened and Dean lowered his head, gazing at the amulet which was hanging around his neck. The all too familiar shape of the necklace had also shaped Dean's bones and the hunter bit his lip at the thought he had once thrown it away. Grabbing it with numb fingers, Dean managed to pass it over his head. He held the bronze amulet in his grasp, staring in awe and bewilderment as a white, purifying light was coming out of it. His pupils shone as the glow got trapped within them and Dean got back on his feet, heart hammering in his chest. 'It glows when God is near...' Castiel's words echoed loud in Dean's head and the hunter took off once again, obliging his feet to work as fast as possible, knowing however, that the glow wasn't an indication that God was near. No. Maybe the amulet could lead one to God. But Dean knew that this was not what his heart; what his soul was searching for.

* * *

 

 

 

No. Dean was searching for Sam and this amulet, the first and everlasting proof of Sam's loyalty and unconditional love, was a part of his soul. Dean could hear Sam's voice in his ears as he ran, and he felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. 'Dean, I never threw it away. I couldn't. I picked it up from that trashcan and kept it all these years because I... Because I wanted you to ask me to give it back to you. I hoped that one day, I would manage to earn your trust, and that you would want it back.' 'I shouldn't have thrown it away--' 'It doesn't matter, not anymore.' Sam had said, when the two of them were lying on Dean's bed, after the latter had saved Sam from Lady Toni's basement. 'All that matters is that... In this thing, there will always be a part of me... And that part of me will always belong to you, Dean...' The words were all Dean could hear. The beating of his heart, the thuds of his steps, his uneven breaths, everything seemed to dim away into nothing, as those words were swirling in Dean's mind.

* * *

 

 

 

So, Dean kept going, kept running, clenching his fingers around the amulet so hard, his knuckles had turned white. “Come on, you have to lead me to him, come on, come on...” Dean chanted as he gasped for breath. On and on he went, until he finally saw a shadow on the ground. Raising his eyes, Dean let out a breathy sigh, unclenching his fingers, so as to cast a glimpse at the necklace. He smiled, letting his eyes find the source of the shadow. And they did find it at once, for Bobby's house was standing a few feet away. Dean let his lips form a smile for the first time ever since Lucifer had entered the bunker. He wore the necklace once more, took in a deep breath, and headed towards the house... “I'm here Sammy, I'm here baby boy...” He chanted as he pushed the door open...

* * *

 

 

 

_ **End of chapter 12** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends!!  
> Last chapter will be right up!  
> I hope you enjoyed it!!


	13. “The light in our Soul...” (Epilogue: Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the final chapter! I've enjoyed writing this story so much!! Thank you so very much for everything!!!  
> I wish that you'll enjoy!!!

_ **Chapter 13 “The light in our Soul...” (Epilogue: Part 2)** _

 

_ **THEN...** _

 

“Come on, you have to lead me to him, come on, come on...” Dean chanted as he gasped for breath. On and on he went, until he finally saw a shadow on the ground. Raising his eyes, Dean let out a breathy sigh, unclenching his fingers, so as to cast a glimpse at the necklace. He smiled, letting his eyes find the source of the shadow. And they did find it at once, for Bobby's house was standing a few feet away. Dean let his lips form a smile for the first time ever since Lucifer had entered the bunker. He wore the necklace once more, took in a deep breath, and headed towards the house... “I'm here Sammy, I'm here baby boy...” He chanted as he pushed the door open...

* * *

 

 

_ **NOW...** _

 

 

What his green eyes were met with, however, was a heartbreaking sight. The house was deserted, cold and dark. The walls were eaten away as if they were standing next to a seashore. It was nothing like Dean remembered it, and that could only mean one thing. Lucifer had torn this memory to shreds as well... There were old pieces of furniture scattered all over the living room and the only indication that someone used to live there, were the embers which were still lying in the fireplace.

* * *

 

 

A small, hesitant red glow was emerging from the fireplace, allowing Dean to dart his green eyes around the room. “Sam?” A low, muttered whisper left Dean's lips and the hunter tensed when he heard the floorboards creaking. “Sammy? You're in here?” The sound of his voice echoed peculiar in Dean's ears, partly due to the fact that the house had a dark vibe. The creaking sound was heard again, this time louder than before, and Dean took a few steps to his left and a couple steps forwards. His eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on a hunched figure which was lingering on the dusty floor, in the far corner of the room.

* * *

 

 

“Sammy?” Dean tried again, approaching the figure cautionaly. When he was finally close enough that his eyes could indeed make out who the figure truly was, Dean froze in place. The figure who was crunched on the floor was indeed Sam, or at least, his body. He had furled his long legs, so that his knees were touching his chin. He had buried his face in his legs and had covered it with his arms, which he had rested atop of his knees. But that wasn't the reason why Dean had stopped dead-in-his-tracks. No. The reason was the fact that Sam's wrists, as well as his ankles, were shackled in heavy, iron cuffs.

 

* * *

 

A short, yet thick chain made sure that Sam couldn't pull his hands away from one another, not more than five inches. An identical thick chain was connecting the two shackles which were around Sam's ankles. Dean took one more step closer to Sam, but the young man's body trembled and the clinking sound of the heavy chains filled the air.

* * *

 

 

“Sam... It's me, it's Dean...” The older man offered, voice wavering. He received no response. “I'm... Sammy, I'm your brother...” Dean managed to utter, trying to keep his voice even so as to not scare Sam even more. At the sound of those words, Sam's fingers fumbled the chain before clenching around the cold links. His head remained hidden from Dean, but the older man decided that this small movement was better than deathly stillness. “I know you're scared... Sammy, I know it, and it's fine...” Dean stumbled on his own words as Sam drew his legs even closer to his chest. One would think it was impossible for a man as tall as Sam to look so small, so hurt, so scared... So venerable.

* * *

 

 

“I'm here to help you, Sammy, I'm here to get you out, baby boy...” Dean muttered in a low, husked voice as he sat on his heels next to Sam. The younger man felt the heat of Dean's body and shivered, but the green eyed man decided it was better to keep his hands away from his brother at the moment. “Sammy, can you understand me?” Dean questioned, keeping his voice low. Again, he received no answer, and the only thing Sam seemed able to do, was to rock himself back and forth, ever so slowly. Dean swallowed, blinking the tears away. “Sammy... Why did you come here?” Dean asked, and after a few moments, he thought he heard a word coming out of Sam's lips.

* * *

 

“What? Can you say that again, Sammy?” “Hide...” Was all the young man muttered, voice muffled by his jeans. “You don't have to hide anymore, baby boy, you're safe now Sam--” “He will burn it all down.” Sam uttered, voice small, scared. “No, no, he's gone Sammy, Lucifer's gone--” But Dean's pleading voice was cut off by a sharp inhale, as Sam shuddered, body shaking to its core, shaking to the point where Dean thought it would break to pieces. “Sammy, hey, hey, he's gone, he's gone, you're safe, you're safe now and I'm here, I'm right here...” Dean promised, extending his hand, but stopping before he could touch Sam. “No one's here...” The young man uttered brokenly. “I'm always alone...” Sam's voice faded into nothing.

* * *

 

 

“Sammy, I'm right here, just...” Dean trailed off, taking in a deep breath. “Just raise your head and you'll see, I'm right by your side.” The man offered, trying to even out his voice. “No one... They all died... They all burned...” “No, no, I'm right here...” Dean said again, and this time he extended both of his hands, taking a hold of Sam's hunched shoulders. He wasn't sure who jerked first, but the sure thing was that they both did, almost simultaneously. Dean, because Sam's skin was ice cold, and Sam because of the fear which bloomed in his heart. Sam threw his head backwards, his messy hair covering his eyes. “Hey, hey, hey, shh...” Dean cooed, taking his hands away from Sam's shoulders, showing his palms to Sam in a gesture of pure surrender.

* * *

 

 

“Sammy, I'm not going to hurt you...” “There's nothing... Nothing but dust and the shadows...” The muttered words made Dean flinch. Sam grabbed the chance, drawing his body further away from Dean, lowering his head again. “Shadows? What shadows, baby boy?” Dean questioned, fighting against his heart's desire to just enfold Sam in his embrace. A shaky, shackled hand was raised, pointing at the center of the living room. Dean turned around slowly, face frowning when all his eyes were met with, was empty space. “Sammy, there's nothing there...” At the sound of his words, Sam's shoulders slumped. But that was wrong... Lucifer didn't see that memory, it should have stayed intact-- Dean's eyes opened wide then, as his mind recalled the fact that he had seen this memory starting to change, as fiery tongues had slid out of the fireplace, wrapping themselves around young-Sam's feet...

* * *

 

 

And as Dean turned his head towards where Sam had pointed out once more, he realized that that was where he and Sam had been standing the night they had stayed at Bobby's, the night they had made love for the first time, under the light of the glowing embers which were sizzling in the fireplace... So, all Sam could see, were cold, dark shadows of what once used to be the fondest and warmest memory he had...”There's no one...” Sam uttered again. Dean shivered, swallowing down a sob which was threatening to come out. No, he couldn't break down, not now, he would only scare Sam even more. Gathering up his courage, Dean spoke, voice low.

* * *

 

 

“Sammy, there's me, baby boy, I'm here...” He pointed out once again, and this time, Sam raised his head. “I'm going to push your ridiculously long hair out of the way, alright? I'm not going to hurt you, I swear...” Dean promised, willing his touch to be feather-light. “Oh, God...” Dean muttered in shock when dull, hazed eyes which held none of the vividness they once had, stared back at him. Their color was not the sweet hazel Dean had come to adore, but a dull tone of gray, which was reflecting the emptiness inside. At the sight of vacant, empty eyes, Dean knew he couldn't hold back any longer. He let out a long shaky breath, allowing his tears to fall, whilst lowering his head in shame. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry, I'm so sorry...” He chanted brokenly, shoulders shaking violently.

* * *

 

 

“It's my fault, I let him in... I did this to you... Sammy, I'm sorry...” Through his silent sobs and broken apologies, Dean thought he heard the rattle of chains moving, so he raised his head to look at Sam. The young man swallowed soundly, eyeing Dean as if he was but a mirage. “Why are you here?” He muttered and Dean took in a deep breath, in an attempted to regain his composure. “Because I'm going to try and get you out of these chains, and then I'll get you out of here, alright?” “Who...” Sam's voice trailed off, as if he was afraid to speak what was on his mind. “Who are you?” He finally uttered, once he saw that Dean made no move towards him. “I'm Dean... I'm your older brother, remember?” Dean pointed out, forcing his lips to form a small smile. Sam's eyes however, were fixed on the amulet around Dean's neck.

* * *

 

 

“You like this?” The green-eyed man asked, face lighting up. Sam just nodded his head. “You had given it to me, along time ago...” He continued, getting the amulet off from around his neck. Sam pulled himself back, fear painted all over his face. “Sammy, hey, no, no, I'm not going to hurt you, Sam--” But it was futile. Sam hid his face yet again, hugging his knees with his hands. To say that Dean actually felt the telltale second during which his heart broke to pieces wouldn't be a false claim. Withdrawing his hands, Dean spoke, unable to mask the pain in his voice. “I... There's nothing I can say, or do, that will take what happen away... And for that I'm... I'm so sorry.” Dean apologized yet again, but gasped as the amulet started glowing once more.

* * *

 

Then realization hit Dean and his eyes opened wide. There was a way he could get Sam out of there, there was a way he could restore his soul and therefore, his wounded body. “You used to say that my soul is still pure and that it was worthy of saving, even though I believed the opposite.” Dean said, voice broken. “You used to believe that we always seemed to find one another, even in the darkest of places.” Dean paused then, as he saw Sam flinching. “And that's true, Sammy... So, please, let me show you, let me show you why you fled here, why you chose to hide here out of all memories... Trust me, please, Sammy...” Dean pleaded, a ghostly smile appearing on his face when Sam raised his head and looked at him.

* * *

 

 

“Show me... what?” Sam uttered, voice wavering. Dean licked his lips, extending his hands towards Sam, holding the glowing amulet in his right palm. “Let me show you what happened here, let me give you my memories, the only part of my soul which has remained unstained, please...” Sam's breath hitched and Dean waited long, torturous moments, until finally, Sam let his cold hands find Dean's. “Close your eyes...” Dean instructed, nestling closer to his brother. “Sammy, close your eyes...” Dean pleaded, allowing the memory of their first time together to emerge and flood his mind. Sam obeyed eventually and so Dean held his brother's hands, praying silently that this one memory, that this one part of his soul, was still unspoiled. He wished to give it to Sam, to shed light in that deserted house, to cast the shadows away...

* * *

 

 

And to his surprise, that's what happened. A feeling akin to adoration rose in Dean's chest then. Even when Sam didn't know who Dean was, he trusted him. Through their entwined hands, Dean saw strands of white light emerging and then they started expanding, filling the room. Sam gasped, holding on to Dean's hands for dear life. Green eyes fell closed as Dean lost himself in that memory and the room began to shake. The walls, the broken windows, the misplaced furniture, they all returned back to normal, piece by piece. The fire in the fireplace bellowed and the embers leaped. The lights were back on, illuminating the room with a soft, yellow glow and the pitter-patter of the rain, as it softly tapped at the windows, filled the air. And in the middle of the room, two figures were standing inches apart from one another, exhaling breaths hot and shaky.

* * *

 

 

“Open your eyes, Sammy...” Dean encouraged and the younger man did as he was told, gasping at the sight of the, now restored room. His eyes shone with a strange glow and Dean saw that they were fixed where the two figures were standing. “What do you see Sam?” Dean questioned, his hold on Sam's hands remaining firm. “I... There are no shadows...” He added awed and Dean squeezed his hands. “I see... I see... Us...” Sam muttered in bewilderment, eyeing his younger self. “Are you sure about this, baby boy?” Young-Dean asked and when young-Sam nodded his head, began a secret ceremony. The rustling of clothes as they were thrown away was heard and the two bodies lay on the carpet next to the fireplace.

* * *

 

 

“Are you scared?” Young-Dean questioned, seeing that Sam was shaking underneath him. “I... Stop teasing Dean.” Came the answer from young-Sam, who had averted his gaze, accompanied by a heavy blush. “Sammy, hey... I'm right here.” Young-Dean assured, raising his brother's chin, meeting his eyes. Old-Sam let out a small sigh. And then, he closed his eyes, as past and present blend together, becoming one. He could feel the soft caresses on his body, the hot breaths, the light kisses... The two young lovers lost themselves in one another, as their bodies surrendered to ecstasy and pleasure. And Sam could feel everything, he could feel his blood running in his veins, only now it was hot, so very hot. He could feel his skin tingling, so he grabbed Dean's hands even tighter, leaning against his brother's board chest, allowing him to finally enfold him in his embrace.

* * *

 

 

Soon, soft moans and breathy sighs filled the air as the young lovers reached the end of their journey, cumming almost at the same time. A blinding light filled the room then, a warm, gentle glow, unlike anything Dean had ever seen. Well, almost anything. He had seen such a purifying light once again, when Death had held Sam's soul in his hands. And he knew that this was the very same light... The two younger versions of Sam and Dean collapsed on the carpet, finding solace in each other's arms, when the aftershocks had finally come to an end.

* * *

 

 

“Dean...” Old-Sam uttered, body shaking. “Yes, it's me Sammy, I'm right here...” The older man replied, voice cracking. This time, when Sam raised his eyes to meet Dean's the older man gasped, for he was finally met with the hazel orbs he loved so much. “You found me...” “Of course I did...” Dean replied, voice warm. He drew Sam closer again, holding him protectively against his chest. Looking outside the window, Dean's heart fluttered in his chest, for a soft morning light was creeping in. And this meant that Sam's memories were finally restored.

* * *

 

 

After what could have been hours, but was only mere minutes, Dean released Sam, and got up on his feet. “We have to get out of here, Sammy.” Dean explained, offering his hands to Sam, who hesitated. “Get out?” Sam questioned, as he struggled to get back on his feet. The chains around his wrists and ankles rattled and Dean extended his hands, ready to catch his brother. “Sammy... We'll get these off, I swear--” “You can't set me free Dean.” Sam replied sadly, looking more like his usual self. “We will break the chains, you'll see--” “Dean, these chains...” Sam said looking at his shackled hands. “These chains will always imprison me, in a world where you don't exist. In a world where Lucifer rays supreme. In a world in the depths of my mind. They are the manifestation of my memories...” Sam pointed out, dragging his naked feet towards the door.

* * *

 

 

The chains rattled loudly, slowing Sam's steps down, causing him to stumble. Dean stood frozen on the spot, tears running down his face. “I'm sorry...” He uttered again, knowing however that it would do nothing to help Sam. “Dean... I would do it again, in a heartbeat. For you, I would do it again.” The younger man replied, voice filled with honesty. “Why, why Sam, I'm not worth it. I am past saving--” “Are you?” Sam questioned, slowly making his way towards Dean. “I let Lucifer inside the bunker, I betrayed your trust, I--” “I have always trusted you, Dean. And you're not past saving. Your soul, was what saved me.” Sam replied calmly, cupping Dean's tear-marked face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. His hazel eyes however, were lingering on the space behind Dean, where their younger selves were lying. Dean turned around, a small smile forming on his face at the sight he beheld.

* * *

 

 

“Let's go...” Dean said after a short pause. He took a hold of Sam's hands, helping him carry the weight of the heavy shackles as they moved towards the door. The green-eyed man pushed it open, taking a step outside. Extending his hand towards Sam, who was still standing at the doorstep. “Are you scared?” He questioned, using the same tone he had used all those years ago. This time, Sam didn't avoid neither his brother's eyes, nor the question he had posed. “Yes, Dean...” Sam replied, for he was scared. He took a hold of his brother's hand, stepping outside of his last safe haven nonetheless. “I'm right here Sammy.” Was all Dean said, knowing that it would be enough.

* * *

 

 

And enough it was, for Sam followed Dean out of the house, casting one last glance over his shoulder, at the two lovers, at his younger self. A part of him wished to stay in that memory, where things were simpler, where Sam didn't have to carry the weight of the world alone. But he knew he couldn't stay there, not when the world was on the brink of extinction. Not when his Dean was waiting for him. “Stay hidden... Stay safe...” Sam muttered, albeit he knew the boys wouldn't listen. As soon as those words left his mouth, Sam closed his hazel eyes, following Dean to wherever he would lead him...

 

* * *

 

When Sam opened his eyes again, he gasped as he felt his muscles tensing underneath his skin. He shut his eyes against the intense pain, but leaned into the familiar touch of rough fingers on his forehead. “Dean...” The young man uttered, licking his dry lips. “Sam? Sammy, are you with me?” Sam tried and after many failed attempts, managed to open his eyes. Next to him, sat Dean, who was hunched over his brother. “Is he--” Sam's question was cut short however, when Dean shushed him, placing his fingers on his lips. “He's gone Sam... He's gone, you're safe.” He explained, brushing away a few brown strands of hair from Sam's forehead. “Is mom--” “She's in the war room, with Crowley.” Dean said, pushing Sam back on the pillows when the younger man tried to prop himself up. “Shh, no Sam, lie down, please...” Dean almost pleaded.

* * *

 

 

“What happened?” Sam asked, looking at his body, eyes widening when he saw no external wounds. His hands, his back, his broken bones, everything was healed. Sam shot his head, fixing his eyes on Dean, posing a myriad of questions without opening his mouth. “Crowley helped us, Sam. He got you here, in my room and he told me that I could save you, heal both your body as well as your soul by--” “By taking the huge risk of getting inside my head...” Sam finished the sentence, sadness filling his voice. His eyes were now lingering on the empty glass with the African dream root. “Sammy, I would--” “After everything you've seen... After everything he did to me, how can you even be around me?” Sam uttered, and Dean let out a shaky sigh.

* * *

 

 

“Sammy...” He chanted the name, cupping Sam's face in his hands, kneeling beside the bed. “You let me stay in the room because deep down you knew that I will never leave you alone.” Sam nodded slightly, but spoke again. “Yes, but after everything he did--” “I am going to say this now and you had better put it in that head of yours. I...” Dean swallowed, letting his gaze find Sam's. “I will always be here, Sam. I will always love you, as my brother, as my best and closest friend, as my lover. Nothing will ever make me change my mind, do you understand?” Such tenderness and love did these words hold, that Sam felt his eyes watering. Dean's hands fell from Sam's face and found his wrists. His thumbs started rubbing small circles. “We will carry them together, yeah?” Dean assured and Sam knew he was referring to the weight of Sam's memories of Lucifer, which in his mind, had taken the form of heavy, iron shackles.

* * *

 

 

“Yeah...” Sam agreed, albeit hesitantly. “We should look for Cas and Kelly--” “Mom and Crowley are on it. They will let us know if they find something.” Dean assured, his face only inches away from Sam's. “Sammy, I'm so--” “I love you.” Sam cut Dean off, not wanting to hear another apology. “I know Sammy, I know...” Dean replied, voice filled with love and care. Leaning forwards carefully, Dean approached Sam's lips, but paused, waiting for his brother to make the move. “Dean, I... I need you to show me... Like you did that night at Bobby's.” Was all Sam said, averting his gaze from the one of his brother as soon as the last word escaped his lips. “I'm sorry, Dean, it's just that I can't--” “Are you scared?Are you afraid of me?” Dean questioned, raising Sam's chin up. “No.” The answer left no room for an argument. “Then that's all that matters. The rest, we'll work them out.” Dean answered, cradling Sam's face in his hands, propping him to lie down.

* * *

 

 

“Can you... Um...” “I'm right here Sammy.... And here I will always be.” Dean promised, lying down next to his brother, who eventually drifted off to sleep, losing himself in a warm dream, which Lucifer couldn't touch. And in that dream, he was no longer in chains, he was free and happy. He was in Bobby's house, sitting next to the fireplace, leaning against Dean's broad chest. He was whole. He was loved and cared for. “I love you Sammy...” Dean muttered, letting his eyes flutter closed, only to follow Sam down the path of sleep. Needless to say, he found himself in Bobby's house as well...

* * *

 

 

_ **End of chapter 13...** _

_ **  
THE END...** _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it ends!!  
> I would love to hear your thoughts!!  
> Thank you so much for all your support, it really means a lot to me!!!  
> Once again, I wish you happy new year!!  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Does it make sense?? I am not sure it does, but next chapter clears things up.  
> Loved it? Hated it?  
> I would love to hear your thoughts!!  
> Comments and kudos keep me on my feet!!!  
> Please spare one, if you want to!
> 
> So, until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> Usagi


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